Alterniearth
by treacheroustorment
Summary: The game never happened. The universes collided so long ago nobody can remember what happened, and left trolls and humans in a bitter rivalry. Twelve trolls and four humans are growing up in a more tolerant generation. But they've still got a long way to go. M for murder, suicide attempts, self-harm, domestic violence, parental abuse, rape, schoolyard bullying, and drug use.
1. Chapter 1

=== Be Karkat Vantas

I rub my eyes tiredly, staring at my husktop with no real purpose. My eyes are drawn to the last lines on the still-open chat I've just finished with Terezi, lines that remind me how much ex-matesprits can still love and care for one another.

GC: SL33P

GC: 1TS GOOD FOR YOU

CG: I DON'T FUCKING SLEEP, TEREZI.

GC: M4YB3 YOU SHOULD ST4RT

GC: ❤

gallowsCalibrator (GC) has disconnected.

Sighing slightly, I lean back in my chair. Terezi and I both came to a realization, only a few months ago, that we aren't meant to be together. We love one another dearly- hence the heart- but a matespritship is out. I don't hold anything against her, nor her me, but we function better as close friends than anything else.

A soft ping clicks from my computer speakers, barely audible over the music playing in the background. My eyes flick to the new IM and I sigh.

EB: hi karkat!

Egbert. Really? I don't even know how I feel about this human. When I first met him, I couldn't stand him. He infuriated the living shit out of me in a way that only a kismesis should. And yet, lately…

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts, and lean forward toward the computer.

CG: OH GOD IT'S YOU.

EB: um… yes, it is.

EB: hi!

CG: GO DROWN IN A PIT OF SCORPIONS.

EB: geez, sorry.

EB: nice to see you too.

EB: i just wanted to talk to you.

Gritting my teeth, I consider. Honestly, nothing too terrible could come out of talking to him for a while. At least, hopefully not.

CG: FINE.

CG: THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?

EB: well, i just wanted to talk to someone…

EB: and nobody else was available.

CG: ABOUT COOKIES AND TEA?

There's a pause. Too long of a pause.

CG: WHAT ABOUT, SLIME HUFFER?

EB: nothing much…

EB: life, i guess.

CG: WHAT ABOUT IT? THERE ISN'T A WHOLE FUCKING LOT TO IT.

There's another long pause. Almost too long, and, beside myself, I start to get kind of worried.

Oh, wait. New message.

EB: i… i guess…

EB: karkat, could I tell you something?

EB: i just need to talk, i guess.

EB: get these feelings out.

I sigh heavily. In reality, I… guess I don't mind this kid. And something sounds off- he doesn't sound like his usual obnoxious-bubbly-happy self.

As much as I wish it didn't, it kind of concerns me.

CG: FINE. JUST PUKE YOUR EMOTIONS ALL OVER ME LIKE I'M SOME EMOTION-VOMIT TOILET.

EB: ew.

EB: it's just…

EB: the kids at school are always telling me i'm stupid and terrible and annoying and how i should go kill myself.

EB: but now i'm starting to wonder if i should?

I hesitate for a second. People dying is bad. Especially when they're people I decently like. Or at least don't completely hate. All the time.

Then another message comes through.

EB: it's not like i haven't tried before.

And _that _concerns me.

CG: WHOA WHOA WHOA.

CG: BACK THE FUCKING TRAIN UP.

EB: what?

CG: DON'T KILL YOURSELF BECAUSE SOME FUCKWIT HALF-BRAINED DOUCHEBAGS WITH NO LIFE ARE BULLYING YOU.

EB: well, i just don't think anyone wants me around anymore.

CG: I'M SURE SOME OF YOUR PATHETIC HUMAN FRIENDS CARE.

EB: i don't know about that.

EB: they don't really seem to sometimes.

CG: ARE YOU JUST GOING TO FUCKING DESERT YOUR MORAIL?

EB: i don't know about her either…

EB: karkat i really just don't want to live anymore.

CG: I BET SOMEONE WANTS YOU TO LIVE.

EB: not really…

EB: i don't think anyone really cares.

CG: WELL, I FUCKING WANT YOU TO LIVE.

Fuck. Did that just slip out? I usually don't say things quite that rash.

EB: really?

EB: i'd think that you would be the happiest.

EB: i mean, you hate me.

EB: right?

I groan slightly. This is not a place I want to be.

But… I need to save this kid's life. Even if he's just thinking about it, I can't lose another friend. Not if I _can _save them.

Wait, did I say friend? I meant not-enemy.

CG: NOT AS MUCH AS I PUT ON.

CG: I MEAN, I TELL MY FRIENDS TO GO DIE EVERY OTHER FUCKING DAY.

CG: DOES THAT MEAN I REALLY WANT THEM TO?

CG: FUCK NO.

EB: i… i guess.

EB: but you just want me to live so it's not your fault.

EB: right?

CG: NO, YOU MORONIC TWAT. GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR NOOK FOR HALF A SECOND.

EB: well, why would you care?

CG: GODDAMMIT.

CG: YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME COME OUT AND SAY IT, AREN'T YOU?

EB: say what?

Damn everything.

Damn. Fucking. EVERYTHING.

And then I take a step back and realize that I can't put my pride over saving Egbert's life. He's not a terrible person, he doesn't deserve death.

So I do say it.

CG: YOU *ARE* ONE OF THOSE PATHETIC GOOD-FOR-NOTHING FRIENDS, SHITMONGERER.

EB: wait, really?

CG: YES.

CG: UN-FUCKING-FORTUNATELY.

EB: wow…

EB: i didn't know that!

CG: THAT'S BECAUSE FRIENDS ARE NOT SOMETHING I FUCKING TALK ABOUT.

CG: EVER.

CG: I TRY NOT TO HAVE VERY MANY.

I fail, of course, but Egbert doesn't need to know that.

EB: oh.

EB: well, seeing as you're my friend, would you mind coming over here and helping me?

EB: i kind of… already tried…

Suicide attempt.

Fucking lovely.

I've had to help someone through these, and it was hard. Plus, I might have to take the kid to the hospital, and that wouldn't be a lick of fun.

CG: GOOD FUCKING JOB.

CG: I'LL BE RIGHT THERE.

CG: DON'T DO ANYTHING UNBEARABLY STUPID UNTIL I GET THERE.

EB: okay.

EB: see you then.

ectoBiologist (EB) has disconnected.

I close my husktop and run my temples slightly, trying to mentally prepare myself for this. I don't know what I'll find, how he's tried to kill himself, how far GONE he is.

It's terrifying.

And it's that terror that makes me get up and walk briskly down to the kitchen. I pop my head in the doorway to see my lusus cooking dinner. "Carmine, I'll be back later," I sigh.

He looks up to me and cocks an eyebrow. Apparently, back on Alternia, lusii were these weird animal things. Now, though, after grubs are hatched, stable trolls are supposed to go find one that matches their blood color and raise it until it's also stable. It's more like a human parent, I guess. "Where are you going?" he asks, dark eyes questioning.

"Can't tell you, someone just tried to seriously fuck their life up and I have to go attempt to put them back together somewhat."

He sighs. "Don't get into trouble and stay smart." He kisses my cheek and I make a face, though more from habit than anything. I love my lusus to death, and he knows it.

Walking quickly, I make my way to Egbert's house. It's not far, but it's still far enough that I start to worry.

I have to hope that I'll get there in time.


	2. Chapter 2

=== Be John Egbert

I sigh shallowly, setting my phone down next to me and closing my eyes, the sharp metallic tang of blood assaulting my nostrils. My fingers are still curled around the knife used to wreak this havoc on myself. I can feel the wet heat of the blood trickling down my arms, puddling around me on the floor, soaking into my clothes.

It finally dawns on me that I really don't want to die.

I try to focus on the fact that Karkat is coming, to keep my mind off it. A faint smile licks at my lips as I remember what he said, not ten minutes ago. It was encased in the usual shouts insults, but still… Karkat had called me a friend.

Losing blood makes me stop caring about filters, and I let myself just kind of think about Karkat.

I've stopped even trying to deny this half-buried crush. It's there, I've recognized it, I'm okay with it… and half of me, irrational as it is, wants it to become reality. Hell, I've told my dad about it. And honestly, the thing he was most concerned about was that human-troll relationships are hard to maintain. I know they are, I know how difficult that would be- but honestly, I can't bring myself to care.

For so long, I haven't even had any interest in romance. I'd almost given up and classified myself as aromantic, but then this random crush showed up, a crush on a boy I thought hated me. I don't think it'll ever really become something, but… maybe.

Just maybe.

It's cold, so cold. The blood is dripping off my arms, pooling on the floor underneath me. I feel sluggish… slow… I just want to sleep.

The knife falls out of my hand, sharp blade opening more bright cuts on my fingers. My hands are shaking again, shuddering as much from terror as blood loss.

It's like this every time. At some point, I realize I don't WANT to die, I don't WANT to leave everything behind, that, as hard as it is sometimes, I love living. I love my friends. And usually when I realize that, it's early enough that I can stop and reverse the damage.

But now… it's too late.

I'm going to die.

My panic almost peaks, then I hear the door click open. Past the dark, past the cold, past the dreary fuzziness in my brain, I hear a voice.

"Egbert?"

It's Karkat.

My mouth quirks in a tired smile.

* * *

=== Be Karkat Vantas

I'm really not sure what I'm going to do.

I guess I just have to open the door and hope for the best.

"Egbert," I say cautiously, turning the doorknob and letting myself in.

My eyes alight on the small human boy, arms dripping crimson, body limp on the floor, and a string of expletives tumble from my mouth. "Holy fucking shit, Egbert," I hiss, stumbling across the took. I push a hand under his jaw, looking desperately for a pulse.

Baby-blue eyes flutter open, and my heart starts working again. "Sorry," he mutters, coughing slightly. "I wasn't… I don't…"

"Shut the fuck up," I snarl, pushing away memories. Last thing I want to be doing is thinking of that now. "God, the fuck did you do to yourself?"

"Knife…" he sighs out weakly. Deliriously, he giggles, reaching a hand up to my unruly mop of hair. "You look adorable."

In reality, I probably look like a train ran over me. Multiple times. I haven't slept in four days, and eaten in at least two.

God, people say weird things when they're half-dead.

I pull him into my arms, ignoring the bright red blood coating my clothes. "Okay, I need to get you to the fucking hospital. Just… stay the fuck alive."

He nods, burying his face in my chest, mood changing abruptly. "I… I don't wanna die," he mumbles, breath catching heavily.

"You're not gonna die, dammit, not on my watch," I growl. Pulling one hand under his shoulders and the other under his knees, I lift him up gently. He's got to weigh at least as much as me, and I sway sharply, the weight almost too much on my exhausted, malnourished body, but adrenaline is fueling me, and I get my balance back quickly. I snag Egbert's car keys and make my way out, finding myself ever so glad that his apartment is on ground level.

Fuck, he lives with his dad.

This is going to end badly.

I don't have much time to think about that, though, as I find myself strapping Egbert's limp, bloody body into the passenger seat and myself sitting in the driver's seat. Hands shaking, I pull out my phone and dial 911, turning the car on and starting toward the closest human hospital.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My friend-" fuck, attempting suicide is fifty kinds of illegal, I'm sure as hell not going to admit that. "Got hurt. Seriously hurt, and he's losing blood fast.

"Thank you sir, and your friend's name?"

"Egbert. John Egbert."

"Thank you, and where are you?"

"I'm driving to the fucking hospital, I just need people waiting when I get there."

There's a pause, then she replies, "All right, human or troll?"

"Human." This'll cause all kinds of problems when I get there, but he needs a human hospital. I skim my memory, finally pulling the hospital's name out. "L. Neya hospital? That's where I'm going."

"Great. Thank you, sir, there will be a team waiting."

"Fucking wonderful." I hang up and hazard a look over at Egbert. Bright blue eyes stare back at me, happy and docile but glazed. He's stuck in his own little world, blood loss starting to give shock a handhold.

"Karkat?" His voice is weak, but at least he's trying. "Am I going to die?"

I shake my head firmly, attention turning back to the road. "Fuck no. You'll be fine."

"You have to promise me something… if I don't die…"

"Well, spit it out, Egbert." I need this kid not to die, and if a promise would make him hold on longer… I'll make it. I wouldn't be able to handle having someone else die on me. It'd shatter the shreds of sanity I still have left.

"You…" his wavers hand gestures vaguely toward me, "take me…" his hand swerves back to himself, resting on his chest, eyes fluttering closed, "on a date."

And now we get to see exactly what blood loss does to a person. Honestly, there's a pretty good chance his delirious brain won't even remember this conversation whatsoever after he's better. I like the kid, definitely enough to try him. I guess I wouldn't mind dating him, if worst came to worst. I'm not planning on it actually happening, though. So I nod. "Sure. I'll try you."

He collapses back onto the seat, and I glance over to see his mouth curved in a smile and eyes closed, and I could almost ignore the blood absolutely coating him and the seat.

Almost.

I reach the hospital, racing around to the ER entrance, and clamber out, slamming the door in time to meet a very large, very angry hospital woman up in my face. "John Egbert, fuckers," I hiss. "He's dying, so I'd rather prefer you take him now."

"You are not a human," spits the hospital woman. "We were told to expect a human."

"No, I'm not. _He's _a fucking human," I growl. "And unless you want one of your precious own dying in his fucking car, I suggest you move your generous ass and get him some help."

She doesn't look happy with me, but she nods. "Fine," she snaps, and a team comes in, surrounding Egbert, rushing through tests, and his eyes sluggishly pull open. I can see a kind of panic spread across his features and breathe a curse, shoving my way through the workers to squat next to him.

"Calm down, fuckwad," I say quietly, locking gazes with the confused human. "You'll be okay, and I'll see you when you get out. Remember, die on me, and I can't keep my promise."

His features relax, eyes lighting up past the glaze of blood loss. "Okay," he sighs. "I won't."

Then they push me viciously away, packaging him up and carrying him inside. The angry hospital woman shoots me one last glare and disappears as well, and I'm left with just a bloody car and desperately pushed-back thoughts to keep me company.

Great. I need to clean this car our, bleach blood out of the carpet at Egbert's apartment, and do it before his dad gets home.

Why the fuck am I doing this?

Oh, right. This kid's my friend.

He'd better live up to it.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Slowest story updater award goes to me._

_Sorry, yo._

* * *

=== Be Gamzee Makara

I open my eyes to see a very familiar-looking scowl standing above me. Coming out of the haze of sleep, I can figure out who it is.

"Hey, motherfucker!" I grin up at Karkat's snarl. "What's up?"

"I have a friend in the hospital and I need you to sneak me in."

This little motherfucker doesn't beat around the bush, does he. "Why do you need me to all up and sneak you into a hospital? Can't you just go get a motherfucking appointment like all of us?"

His face twists like he's just bitten into a lemon. "It's a human hospital."

Whoa. Okay, he's got my attention. "You've got a human friend? Since when?"

"Since a while, unfortunately. Tried to fucking kill himself. Lost a fuckton of blood. Had to take him to the hospital." He's trying to sound like he doesn't care, but a troll knows what his morail is thinking.

"Well, who is this sad little motherfucker?"

He grits his teeth, but replies, "Egbert."

That's enough to get me sitting up, swinging my legs into a cross-legged sitting position. "How the motherfuck did you land yourself Egbert as a friend?"

"Oh, it gets fucking better," he replies, setting his face into an even darker scowl. "He asked me on a fucking date."

"What?" My eyes open wide. Being his morail, I have seen fuzzy spots of Karkat's visual toleration toward John, which does usually mean he's somewhat attracted, but I would've never saw that coming. "Did you accept the offer?"

"He was bleeding to death in his fucking car, there's no way I was going to refuse him." With a hissed sigh, he rolls his eyes. "He'll forget when he's better, he was going through fucking shock."

"I dunno, motherfucker… you gotta at least realize that he does like you. People don't just all up and say random things they don't mean."

He scowls. "Hopefully not. I don't want to have to deal with that space-wasting bucketfucker as a matesprit."

With a grin, I point out, "You said the same motherfucking thing with Terezi."

"Yeah, and look how fucking well that turned out." With another snarl, his eyes flash. "Look, are you going to get me into the hospital or not?"

"Why the motherfuck not? It'll be fun!" I grin up at him, moving my hands through my hair. Karkat's always come to me when he wants to do something illegal, though it's usually the quietly-sneaking-and-entering kind. I'm good at that kind of stuff, and sneaking is actually kind of my thing.

He just rolls his eyes, which is classic Karkat. "Fucking wonderful."

I stand up, sneaking him a kiss on the jawline, which is pretty standard morail behavior. When I'm standing, I basically tower over him, as he only comes up to just under my shoulder. I grab his hand, grinning. "Well, then! Let's go!"

* * *

=== Be Karkat Vantas

I have to hand it to him, Gamzee can fucking _sneak_.

I mean, he just managed to quietly get me into a human hospital in the middle of the night, without setting off the slightest alarm. That's skill.

I make him wait outside- he might be smart, but Gamzee has the attention span of a puppy on crack. Then I find a patient listing, locate Egbert, and set off.

It doesn't take long, but I do take the liberty of looking through the medical folder on the outside of his door, scanning it quickly. When I reach the section marked "causes," I curse.

-Suspected abuse/suicide attempt

Neither of those are good.

Quietly, I walk into the room, clenching my jaw at the array of wires poking into the small, still frame in the bed, noting the bandages all up his arms. I slip over to the human and shake his shoulders slightly. "Hey, fuckwit," I whisper. "You gonna wake up?"

It takes a few seconds, but he opens his eyes gently. They're still glazed, but I can tell it's not from shock anymore. It's more of what I see in Gamzee, more doped-up and content. "Oh, it's you," he sluggishly whispers. "Hi."

"Hey there. You okay?" Mostly, I'm here to keep the kid from panicking. His human friends are all otherwise occupied, and apparently his dad's on a business trip, so I need to keep him calm. Because apparently his morail can't fucking do it for him.

"Yeah. They-" he frowns slightly. "They keep asking me all these questions about my dad, and my friends…"

I wince, ever so slightly. "I guess that makes sense," I hiss to myself, then raise my volume. "Just be honest. Tell them how great they are and how much you love the fuck out of them."

He nods. "I am. They have me on all these meds. They make my brain all loopy." He giggles slightly, this obnoxiously adorable laugh.

Wait, did I say "adorable"? I meant "completely dorky and stupid."

I sigh. Yup, he's doped-up. At least he seems decently happy. "That's fucking wonderful. I'm glad you're not dying anymore."

"I am too," he slurs, his eyes dropping closed. Then he opens them again brightly. "I told them about you."

"Oh, did you?" Weird. "What'd you tell them?"

"Um… mostly that they had to make me better… because I wanted to go on a date with you." Another laugh, though this one's more muted. "They said I should be good around tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," I sigh through gritted teeth. Still hasn't forgotten about that, I see. It's okay, he will soon. "Well, you don't look extremely dead, so I'll fucking do it."

"Good." His eyes close again, and he smiles. "Goodnight, Karkat."

"Goodnight, fuckwit." I run a hand softly through his hair and retrace my steps to where Gamzee's sitting outside the window.

He gives me a grin, closing the window as I clamber out. "Did your motherfucking John friend all up and get his Karkat fix?"

Scowling firmly at him, I reply, "I guess. He's doped up, but he said he should be out tomorrow afternoon."

"Then what?"

"Then he goes to school the next day, we go back to being friends and I tell him to talk to his fucking morail more often." I shrug. "Hopefully nothing much happens."

"Well, what about that motherfucking date?" He seems genuinely confused, though Gamzee's like that most of the time.

"What about it?" I growl. "He forgets, and we move on."

Gamzee shrugs. "Whatever, palebro."

Sighing slightly, I continue, "Can I come back to your place to sleep?" It's a Saturday night, I can sleep as long as I damn well please tomorrow morning, and I'll honestly probably sleep until about eight or nine at night. "It's gonna be… worse than usual tonight." I don't bother saying what or why. He knows both, and the why is not something we talk about. Ever.

His eyes dim slightly, though his smile is as cheery as ever. "Of course, brother! You'll be all kinds of safe-feeling there."

"Thanks." Without another word, we walk quietly back to his place, a little wreck of an apartment that he pays for on his own from God knows what. I just know he hasn't gotten arrested yet, so he's either amazingly good at hiding or doing something legal, though our "police forces" are pretty much the least effective thing ever created. From all the drugs he uses, I'm guessing he's just great at hiding. He basically gets high off anything he can get his hands on, even more so after he realized what happens when he doesn't have those. Seriously, I'm pretty sure he's tried it all. It can't be good for him.

But it sure as hell beats the alternative.

He hops up in the corner of his bed and I climb up too, nestling into his warm t-shirt. He's so much bigger than me, it feels comforting somehow. His heartbeat is warm, strong and soothing, one of the few things that can actually lull me to sleep. This is something we do not infrequently; though I like to blame our moirallegiance entirely on him, the truth is that I need it just as much. He's protective, and paradoxically safe. I need that safety, I need someone that's close to me that I can just openly love and trust. Gamzee feels that, and helps.

Almost unknowingly, I slip into sleep, four days of restlessness proving to be too much to carry for long.


	4. Chapter 4

=== Karkat: Dream

"Egbert?" He isn't moving. Fuck, you can't die on me, stupid. "John, wake up."

And then I bring his body closer to me, and it isn't Egbert anymore. Even the viscous scarlet blood is revealed to be dark blue.

"Aranea!" It's a scream, ripped from my throat, a sob from the depths of my soul. "No, please no, you can't fucking die on me, Aranea, please!"

Flicker again, and the blood's the same color, only she isn't in my arms, she's sobbing in the corner, and dark blue-tinted eyes look up to me fearfully, but they're wrong. They're scared, terrified, hurt, screaming for help I can't even give. "I… I'm sorry… Serket, please… Vriska…"

But the room spins, and he's replaced her, sliding down the wall, covered in blood again, unseeing eyes fixed on mine. "Egbert, no, you can't die, you have to be fucking fine-"

Then his eyes blink slowly and I find myself scrambling toward her, a scream on my lips as I scramble to fix her, make her better, help her, _something_-

Her hand reaches up to my hair and, shaking heavily, softly caresses my cheek. "Farewell," she breathes, and her eyes shut too.

"Aranea, no!" I scream, sobbing again, clutching her close.

But she melts away in my arms and she's sitting in front of me, eyes locked with mine, accusing, wondering, helpless. The wall behind her is smeared with her blue blood, mixed with the slightly lighter shade of Aranea's cobalt and Aradia's maroon and Tavros' rust and Sollux's yellow and Eridan's violet and Nepeta's olive and Kanaya's jade and Feferi's fuchsia and Equius' indigo and, in front of it all, there's just that haunting purple smiley. Her eyes are empty, screaming-

I blink and he's smiling up deliriously at me. "Am I gonna die?"

"No, you're gonna be fucking fine," I hiss, but his eyes are closing, and she's breathing shallowly, and her hands are clutching my shirt, shaking with uncontrollable terror. Then her breath catches once… twice… three times and it's gone, her grip tight in death. And the complete desolation, the absolute agony I feel, bubbles up into a scream, and-

I sit up, and there's a scream somewhere- oh, wait, that's me- and there are warm arms wrapping around my shoulders pulling me close. There's a soft shushing in my ear, and his hand runs through my hair, seeking to calm me down. With an effort, I calm my breathing, but it breaks through the already-weak barriers I've managed to build up. I find myself clinging to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, sobbing heavily into his shirt. In return, his hands go around my chest, rocking me slightly.

"I couldn't save her, Gam," I whisper past sobs that make my shoulders shake helplessly. "She was… she was dying… and I couldn't fucking save her."

"I'm sorry, Karkat." His voice is similarly low, rumbling through his chest warmly. "I'm so… motherfucking… sorry." His hand continues running through my hair, and I find myself relaxing into him, not feeling the need to cling to him quite so closely.

Ironic, that I feel safest around _him_.

After a few minutes, I relax enough to lean up and press a soft kiss to the underside or his jaw, sitting up so I can look him in the eyes. I know how much this topic absolutely tears him apart. "It wasn't your fault," I sigh, "and I would never blame you."

"I know," he replies quietly. I can tell how much it still hurts, how much he agonizes over it, but I wouldn't push this subject. Instead, I just lie back down on his chest, eyes closing quietly.

Morails are fucking helpful sometimes.

"I kinda like you, you stupid bulgebiter."

He chuckles gently. "I love you too, little motherfucker."

* * *

A/N: Short, short chapter, but it didn't make sense to add more D:


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N: Sorry for the hiatus. Depression's been kicking my ass lately. I'm going to try to be more regular._**

* * *

=== Be Sollux Captor

There's nothing fascinating about Sollux Captor, why the hell would you want to be me?

Seriously, you can leave now.

Leave.

Go.

Now.

...

...

Huh.

So you aren't going?

Suit yourself, but there's no way in hell I'm breaking the fourth wall again for you. That wall right there? It's staying absolutely intact. You got that?

I rub my eyes, trying to pull my thoughts back from daydreaming. My gaze lights on the computer, and I hold back a groan.

Oh, yeah. Homework.

I don't think humans have any idea how difficult it is to drop your typing quirk so that your homework is "legible." It actually takes a _lot_of work and effort. In all-troll schools, usually they let you use your quirk, since it's about as good as a signature, illegal to seriously imitate, and not all that hard to read. However, in mixed schools, you better watch your ass if you slip into your typing quirk.

I look down at the only two notes I actually took for the first lecture.

-iif you sliip iinto your typiing quiirk iin a paper, 2omebody wiill murder your a22.

-thii2 guy iis a ma22iive douchey priick.

About sums everything up.

I start typing again, some beginning-of-the-semester paper on programming mechanics. Pretty simple stuff, but I have to kick it up a notch for these human professors. They'll squish me like a grub if I don't give them the undeniably best papers in the class.

There's a click from the door, then a soft sigh. "Homework? Again? It's Saturday night."

"Hey AA." I glance at the clock on my husktop. "You're a full seven minutes late. I'm mildly surprised."

"Traffic." There's warm humor on top of her voice, though, and I watch in the reflection of my screen as she comes up behind me. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, chin resting on the top of my head. "Quirk in line three, halfway in."

I breathe a swear and go back to change it. "This is why you're my editor," I reply, wincing at the lisp that creeps in as I stop paying close attention to it. It was worse a couple sweeps ago, but I stopped having time for speech therapy and now it's slowly but surely waltzing its way back in.

"It's fine; it's hard to keep quirks out of papers. I've done it for long enough." She presses a kiss to the top of my head and hangs over the top of me, and I'm treated to upside-down Aradia eyes, dark curls tumbling into my lap. "Are you almost done?"

"I go to a mixed school, AA, of course I'm not done. Why, did you want to go somewhere?" I cross my arms and lean back into my chair; homework can always wait for a bit.

"I just want to go on a date," she sighs, shrugging her shoulders, an awkward movement when you're halfway upside-down. "I've been getting to spend a lot of time with Tavros, but nowhere near enough with you." Her dark maroon eyes are somewhat disappointed. "At this point, I would settle for a double hatedate."

"You know, you could just ask." I lean forward slightly to kids her forehead. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"

Her eyes spark into life, and she spins around so she's in front of me, hands resting on my arms. "Anywhere really," she grins. "We could go watch a movie, or have a picnic, or walk around downtown, or-"

"Calm down," I laugh, resting a finger on her lips. My eye catches on a scar, though, trailing from under my finger down her neck, disappearing into her dark red gossamer shirt, and I pull my hand sharply away. I know I shouldn't still react like this, but… I just can't help it anymore.

Her eyes radiate such intense sadness that I can feel it. "No, don't do this to me, not again." she cries. Her hand grabs mine urgently, pressing my palm to her clerk. "You can touch me, please, Sollux, just _touch _me!"

I bring my free hand, shaking slightly, to hers, grasping it firmly. "I'm trying," I rasp, looking down and avoiding her eyes. "I'm trying to function normally, trying to love you how I know I should, but… I can't."

"It happened almost a full sweep ago, are you ever going to forgive yourself?"

"I don't know," I sigh, looking back up to her. "Look, we can go on that date tonight, and I'll try to work on it. Is that good?"

Her eyes soften, and she leans down to kiss my nose. "Okay. I just want you better."

I manage the slightest smile. "I know. I want myself better too."

* * *

=== Be Aradia Megido

It's been way too long since I took my matesprit on a date.

Sure, a lot of it's been that we're both busy with school, but still. It's been a good five weeks. I've gone out with _feferi _in that time, and we generally don't even do hatedates. Yeah, I've seen him in that time, as I make it a point to go to his house every day, but not an actual date.

There is something wrong with this boy's flushed quadrant. I've been his matesprit for a few months more than a sweep now, and even a grub could tell by this point that something's up. I don't doubt his feelings, I know he loves me, I just can't see what's so wrong. It's been so long, and I haven't even gotten to kiss him. I've never _had _a flushed kiss.

He'll stand here in line with me and hold my hand, laugh with me at the funny-looking posters, let me nestle up beside him as the movie starts, even wrap an arm around my waist and pull me close, kissing my temple softly- but he doesn't _touch _me. Not really, not skin-on-skin, not the way matesprits are allowed to touch. The way they're _supposed _to touch. It's like there's something holding him back from that.

I can't imagine he's still beating himself up over what happened a sweep ago.

Okay, it is Sollux, I could imagine that.

But this drastically?

It's so confusing.

Hell, I've _slept _with this boy and he wouldn't touch me. The one day, eight months after the Debacle, when he finally broke down, I stayed with him through the night. What with his mind-numbingly high record of suicide attempts in those eight months, I wasn't going to let him stay alone. But he kept himself so far away, this haunted look in his eyes like he was scared of me. A couple weeks later, he took Feferi as his morail, and he did get quite a bit better.

He's safer now, and, as much as I despise Feferi, I'm glad Sollux has a morail who loves him.

But there's something wrong with the physical aspect of this quadrant.

Half of me wants to go ask Eridan about his calignous quadrant. Then maybe I'd know if he's just scared of hurting me again.

I'm not going to pry into his life like that, though. That's his business, and I trust him enough to realize that he'll tell me if I need to know. Once it's important to me and he feels safe to tell me, I'll learn about it. I'm perfectly content with how things are now.

Okay, maybe not _content_, but I do trust him. And I love him enough to be okay with however he needs to deal with things.

I just really wish I knew what was wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

=== Be Karkat Vantas

I walk back inside, disheveled but rested pretty decently. "Carmine?" I call.

He appears under the stairs, in the doorway to the living room, and before I know it, I'm enveloped in a warm hug that smells faintly of… Juniper?

That is not what my lusus smells like.

"Is Hazel over?" I ask, pulling away slightly and referencing Nepeta's lusus.

"Yeah, her and Dolarosa," he replies absent-mindedly. His tone, however, turns much more serious in the next sentence. "Where have you been?"

"Bleaching blood out of a carpet, sneaking into a hospital, and sleeping at Gamzee's. Why, am I in trouble?"

Carmine shrugs. "Well, that sounds full. Mind explaining?"

I sigh, deciding just to give him the details in one go. I don't want to be spreading them around too much, but certain people can be trusted with details. My lusus is one of them. "Egbert fucked with his life, so I had to get him to a human hospital, then clean the fucking blood up. And it was fucking terrifying, but I needed sleep, so I went to Gamzee's, because… well… y'know. Nightmares." He knows all about them, but I don't like admitting it to anyone.

He nods gently. "Call me next time, would you?"

"Yeah," I wince. "Sorry. My mind was a little preoccupied."

"I got it. I'm glad you're safe. Your friend's okay?" His dark maroon eyes, contacts covering up his slightly lighter shade, are questioning, but in more of a moderately concerned way.

I shrug. "I guess. He didn't just fucking die."

Carmine cocks an eyebrow, but doesn't pry. "Okay. Dolarosa cooked dinner, and you should come spend some time down here with us. Your phone has IM, you won't miss anything."

Inwardly, I sigh toward the food, but nod. I know I eat way less than I should, but the last sweep has been a roller coaster of pushing back emotions, trying just to stay _sane_, and I've neglected myself for most of that. Not sleeping or eating kind of does a number on your body, but at least it does keep most of those thoughts out of the picture.

Carmine walks into the living room, and I slip into the kitchen to get some food. As I get a plate out of the cabinet, my phone buzzes. I pull it out, sighing slightly as I see who it's from.

EB: hi there.

EB: they released me like an hour ago.

EB: so… i'm back home!

I scoop something vaguely resembling vegetable-laden pasta onto my plate before replying.

CG: FUCKING LOVELY.

CG: GLAD TO HEAR YOU AREN'T DEAD.

CG: THAT WOULD REALLY SUCK FOR YOU.

Grabbing a fork, I walk into the living room, waving at Hazel and Dolarosa. "Nice to see you," I say. My eyes flicked to the TV, where they're watching some crime show, all pitching in their guesses as to what happened. Redglare dominates this game, but here they all have about an equal chance.

Hazel and Carmine are curled up together on the corner of the couch, and Dolarosa is sitting in the middle sewing something. She taps the seat next to her, and I sit down, pulling out my phone as it buzzes again.

EB: hehe, yeah, it would.

EB: but, um… yeah, i stayed alive.

Cautiously, I push a bite of food into my mouth. "This is really good, 'Rosa," I mutter around the mouthful. I have to chew slowly and thoroughly, knowing from previous experience that food doesn't stay down well after a couple days of starving. I need to stop this, I know I do, but I need that nagging hunger to detract from the thought I can pay other things.

Dolarosa smiles at me. "I'm very glad," she replies.

CG: GREAT.

CG: LET ME MAKE YOU A FUCKING MEDAL.

CG: SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR IT?

There's a tape measure around my shoulders, and I sigh. "Rosa, are you making me more clothes?"

The motherly jadeblood nods, a smile teasing her lips. "Of course I am. Kanaya is continually complaining about your sad lack of a wardrobe."

"But I don't _want _more clothes," I gripe, eating another bite. "I enjoy my turtlenecks and jeans."

"I raised your lusus," she reminds me, bringing a stern finger to my face. "I am permitted to make you clothing."

EB: well…

EB: you did make me a promise.

I'm actually so surprised, I inhale a vegetable, which causes me to go into a coughing and choking fit. Dolarosa rubs my back firmly, trying to get me to breathe normally again. When I'm back to decently okay, she laughs slightly.

Carmen speaks up from the other side of the couch. "What is it?"

"Uh…" Yeah, I'm not going to be able to lie my way out of this one. "You know how Egbert had to go to the hospital? Well, I kind of fucking promised him that I'd go on a date with him if he stayed alive..."

Amusedly, Carmine snorts. "Why on Alterniearth would you do that?"

"He was delirious and in fucking shock," I growl. "I don't like my friends fucking bleeding to death in front of me, okay?"

Immediately his voice softens. We're both thinking of the same person. "Point. Well, did he die?"

"Nope, kid's alive and kicking." I sigh slightly. "Honestly, I thought he would forget. He was fucking delusional and completely out of it."

"Well," replies my lusus, "did you mean what you said?"

"I…" Okay, fine. I guess I could've made that promise with worse people.

Spiderbitch, for example.

I could completely hate the kid afterward, I could want him to spend the night in a cobra cage, but…

And it's that "but" that does it.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good." He returns to the TV show, and I return to my phone.

EB: uh, karkat?

EB: you there?

CG: YEAH, JUST CHOKING TO DEATH ON MY FUCKING DINNER.

CG: NO BIG DEAL.

EB: oh, jeez, you okay?

CG: PERFECTLY FUCKING ROSY.

CG: YOU ACTUALLY REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED?

EB: well… yeah.

EB: it's kinda foggy, but it's there.

EB: also, i dreamed you came to see me in the hospital?

Actually, I'm glad he thought it was a dream. Hospital workers are at least used to their patients having weird and creepy dreams. But he isn't in there anymore.

CG: YEAH, THAT WASN'T A DREAM.

EB: what?

CG: I WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WEREN'T FUCKING DEAD OR INSANE.

CG: CUT ME SOME FUCKING SLACK.

EB: oh.

EB: well, does that mean you'll go on a date with me?

I groan inwardly. This was not a decision I had actually wanted to make.

But I did promise.

CG: SURE.

CG: *ONE* FUCKING DATE.

EB: oh!

EB: well, cool!

EB: um, would like… tomorrow night work?

CG: WHY THE FUCK NOT.

CG: I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING ACTUALLY IMPORTANT GOING.

EB: um, great!

EB: i'm really not supposed to be driving, so could you come pick me up?

CG: AGAIN, WHY THE FUCK NOT.

CG: GOT A TIME IN MIND?

EB: well, like…

EB: sixish? :)

CG: LOVELY.

CG: WE CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK WE'RE DOING THEN.

CG: LATER, FUCKWIT.

EB: hehe.

EB: later!

ectoBiologist (EB) has disconnected.

I sigh heavily, slipping my phone back into my pocket. "I'm going on a date tomorrow night, Carmine," I say, nestling up close to Dolarosa.

"Good for you," he replies with a laugh. "Who knows- maybe the kid will work out. There have been good troll-human relationships before."

"I promised him _one _date, douche," I reply, rolling my eyes. "That's all."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

=== Be John Egbert

I grin, sitting back in my bed, pain from my arms suddenly forgotten, just that deliriously doped-up feeling rushing through my veins.

I'm going on a date with Karkat Vantas.

Forget that he's not going to go on another one with me, forget that he apparently didn't count on my remembering his promise, forget that this might actually be the closest I ever get to a real relationship.

I'm going on a date, and we're both going to have a good time, dammit!

This feeling is delicious. This knowing that I'm going to get to pretend, even just for a few hours, that I can have a real relationship.

Even if it's untrue, I'm still going to savor it.

Maybe I could kind of tell him about some of the way I work?

I shake that away.

Because, come on, a guy who isn't interested in sex? I might as well not exist.

This is something that's screwed up a good chunk of my relationships, or at least the potential ones. I've never actually _been _romantically interested in people, but I've always been willing to give others a shot.

And then I bring up the term "asexual" and people run. The ones who don't, flee at the term "aromantic."

Apparently I'm not completely aromantic. Grey-aromantic sounds more like it- not usually feeling romantic attraction, but feeling it on occasion- and I'm okay with that.

Well.

For the most part.

I just want love. Even when I identified as aromantic, I wanted love. Maybe it wasn't the same way everyone else did, but it was still _valid_.

It _is_ still valid.

I just… am not interested in sex. At all.

The real problem is that I'm cuddly as hell. I don't really know where the normal physical boundaries are, and so I have a tendency to cross them without trying. It's led to some… awkward situations.

But there is one thing. I don't expect that I'll ever get anywhere with Karkat. I'm fully accepting of the fact that I get _one _date.

So… maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible idea to tell him?

I fall asleep with a grin on my lips and joy in my heart.


	7. Chapter 7

ugh this took like 70000 years I'm sorry

also I am reading the comments, I promise. :) i've got quite a bit typed up already, but i'm definitely writing more of those characters you're asking for. ^_^

* * *

=== Be Sollux Captor.

Oh my God.

Really?

You want to be me again?

Listen, dipshit, I've basically SHATTERED this fourth wall, and I don't enjoy doing that. As a person, it leaves me with a very uneasy feeling even knowing that wall is there. It's weird, and I completely hate doing it.

Fine, be me if you want, but I am going to ignore you.

I hate when my thoughts wander; I can never remember them, and so it leaves me with this vaguely uneasy feeling, as if I'm missing something.

CG: HEY, FUCKWAD.

Oh, look. A message from everyone's least favorite douchemuffin. I wonder what he's bitching about now?

TA: 2up, douchebag.

CG: LOOK, I KIND OF NEED ADVICE.

CG: MUCH AS I MIGHT HATE YOU AT TIMES, YOU *ARE* MY BEST FRIEND.

Karkat needs advice? From me? I start to forget about the horrible failure that is me, just a bit.

TA: half of me want2 you two beg for iit.

TA: 2eriiou2ly, when am ii going two get another chance at thii2?

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL FUCKING ASK SOMEONE ELSE.

TA: you're adorable, 2weetheart.

TA: fiine.

TA: 2hoot.

CG: I HAVE TO STAY AWAKE ALL DAY TOMORROW.

CG: AND TONIGHT IS SHAPING UP TO BE PRETTY FUCKING HORRIBLE.

CG: I NEED SOMETHING TO KEEP MY MIND OFF LIFE.

CG: GOT ANYTHING?

I smirk slightly. Karkat went through my 17 suicide attempts in 8 months with me. He knows I'm hella good at shoving away thoughts; it's probably good he came to me. I also know what he's pushing away.

TA: let me get you 2ome tiimewa2ter 2iite2.

TA: one 2ec.

That's another thing. Because he's my best friend, I can basically figure out what's the best thing for him. Morails can do that, too, but Gamzee's always stoned off his ass, and it makes things slightly more difficult.

I send Shouty a bunch of websites, mostly ones he's never used, and then decide to wreck the little douche's so carefully constructed facade.

TA: 2o.

TA: what'2 happeniing tomorrow that'2 2o iimportant?

TA: and why diidn't you 2leep la2t niight iif you needed to do that?

CG: NOT SOMETHING I FEEL LIKE YOU'RE ENTITLED TO KNOW.

CG: BUT THANKS FOR FUCKING ASKING.

TA: come on, diip2hiit.

TA: ii'll fiind out 2ooner or later.

CG: NOPE.

CG: THIS LITTLE HIDEY-HOLE OF SAFETY IS ACTUALLY REALLY FUCKING NICE.

CG: YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME.

CG: OH WAIT. YOU CAN'T.

TA: 2eriiou2ly, you priick, iit'2 not liike ii'm a2kiing you 2ome alterniiearth-2hatteriing, liife-changiing que2tiion.

CG: THAT DOESN'T MEAN I HAVE TO PROVIDE YOU ANSWERS.

I sigh, rolling my eyes. Again, I know everything about this troll. Yeah, he's being a douche, but usually I can pry some answers out of him, if not the whole story.

TA: ii'll fiigure iit out eventually, you know ii wiill, and there'll be le22 tea2iing iif iit come2 2traiight from you.

There's a long pause, and I go back to my paper. Hopefully he'll figure himself out and just tell me.

CG: FINE, FINE.

CG: I'M GOING ON A FUCKING DATE.

Okay, I'll admit, I'm surprised. After the first time, none of us expected him to fill that quadrant again. Hell, Terezi was a bit of a shock for us all, and they didn't even particularly function as matesprits. In reality, Karkat and Terezi were like… normal friends on steroids. They interact about the same as exes as they did when they were together.

And now he's randomly going on a date out of the blue?

TA: that'2 unexpected.

TA: who wiith?

Another long pause. If all his answers are going to be like this, I might as well just walk over to his house and get them in person.

CG: A HUMAN.

TA: that'2 defiiniitely iintriiguiing, but not what ii a2ked.

CG: OKAY LOOK.

CG: EGBERT TRIED TO FUCKING COMMIT SUICIDE.

CG: I TOOK HIM TO THE HOSPITAL, BUT THERE WAS APPROXIMATELY A FUCKTON OF BLOOD, SO HE WAS IN SHOCK.

CG: DELIRIOUS.

CG: AND HE WANTED ME TO PROMISE HIM A DATE IF HE SURVIVED.

Huh. So John' suicidal, obviously has a crush on Karkat, and is alive and kicking.

Quite a bit of me is annoyed that Spiderbitch doesn't seem to have done much. It's not much of a shock, given her track record, but still. She's the human's fucking morail, she does have quite a bit of say in this. I know she can't stop everything, that's not how morails work, but she could've done something.

TA: you're goiing on a date wiith jn?

TA: that ii2 hiilariiou2 a2 2hiit.

CG: FUCK OFF.

CG: I DON'T PARTICULARLY ENJOY FRIENDS BLEEDING TO DEATH WHEN I CAN ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

My mind immediately conjures that image of him kneeling, broken, over Aranea, and I soften slightly. It makes sense, I guess.

TA: okay, yeah.

TA: ii would be concerned iif you liiked iit.

TA: do you liike hiim?

CG: I DON'T KNOW.

CG: HE'S ANNOYING AS FUCK.

TA: kk, you thiink everyone'2 annoyiing a2 fuck.

TA you think tz'2 annoyiing a2 fuck, and you u2ually tolerate her.

CG: THERE'S NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT HIM.

CG: HE ISN'T FUCKING TERRIBLE, I guess.

TA: 2o you do liike hiim.

CG: NOPE.

TA: come on, kk. you'd be biitchiing 2o much more iif you diidn't.

CG: WELL.

CG: LOOK, I DON'T FUCKING HATE HIM.

CG: HE'S GOT SOME ENDEARING QUALITIES.

CG: BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I LIKE HIM ANY MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE.

I smirk. There we go. Honestly, he needs to learn to just spit this out at the beginning of the conversation. He could've saved so much time.

TA: that'2 adorable.

TA: well, you know me, ii couldn't giive le22 of a 2hiit about who you paiil.

CG: I'M GOING ON ONE FUCKING DATE, SHITSPONGE.

TA: you never know.

CG: WHATEVER.

CG: THANK YOU, YOU USELESS PILE OF SHIT.

TA: no problem, douchemuffiin.

TA: anytiime.

carcinoGeneticist (CG) has disconnected.

I go back to my paper, though my mind's anywhere but. Rather, I'm thinking about matesprits and healthy relationships or lack thereof.

Personally, I don't harbor any delusions that Aradia and I have an exactly healthy matespritship. I know exactly why, too, and I'm the only one who actually knows.

Well, me and her.

I can't bring myself to ever actually think of her name. I don't think about what's happened or what will happen. It all just gets shut out. That's the only way I can stay sane, is by pretending it doesn't happen.

Is that healthy?

Absolutely not.

But it's legal. Everything's legal. I know I can't do anything about it, so I just don't think about it.

God forbid she find out I've told someone. It's what keeps everything so secret, the fact that she's kill me if I said anything, that she'd kill people I love if they found out.

But watching the grief in Aradia's eyes when I pull away from her, seeing how deeply I'm hurting her just because I can't do any of this, because it would be breaking rules, rules she doesn't even know exist- it kills me. I just want to be a normal troll. I just want to love my matesprit properly.

Really, I scream to the quiet, Is that too much to ask?

The question is answered with the same silence it was asked with.

After a minute, I shut my computer off and climb into bed.

I might as well at least TRY to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

=== Be Feferi Peixes

I really wish I lived near the ocean.

Watching the fish swim around in my little aquarium, I sigh. They're all so simple, happy, content cooped up in that little thing. They don't mind the suffocating smallness, don't care that they can see the outside world, can almost touch it- but not quite. They're fine being trapped for the rest of their little lives.

They're happy.

I hear a scream, distant and cloudy, and I wrap my arms around myself and shudder. This is the main drawback to living in the Condesce's palace. I know she has more than a few lowblood slaves- if rumors are to be believed, highblood ones too- and I know it amuses her to ruin their lives every day. There are whispers, too, that she has some trolls that aren't technically her slaves but she still owns. Trolls who live their everyday lives but are also at her beck and call; normal on the outside but slaves on the inside.

Any one of my friends could be one of her slaves.

I tear my thoughts away from that quickly, but there's still a lingering heat in my chest, a burning rage against my lusus. It's blasphemous, hating the Condesce this much, but I can't help it.

There's a second scream, filled with pain and terror. It's like 5 in the morning; does that bitch ever sleep? I smother my face in my pillow, trying desperately to block out all the sound.

When another, louder scream comes through, sending a chill down my spine, I give up. Quickly, I change into my normal clothes, a stretchy swim-like skirt over brightly colored leggings, a variously multicolored tank top, and goggles that almost hide in my mane of black hair. I'm a seadweller at heart, even if I don't get to show it much, and this is how I remind myself of that.

I turn my computer on quickly.

CC: S)(ello?

TA: hey, ff.

TA: 2up?

CC: Whale, I just wanted to sea if I could come over.

CC: I'm sick of being )(ere.

TA: ff.

TA: iit'2 fiive iin the fuckiing morniing.

CC: Sorry, Sollux…

CC: The Condesce doesn't reely sleep.

There's a long pause. I know Sollux hates the Condesce as much as I do and more, probably because of how much she discriminates against lowbloods. Still, I wish I could do something to change my lusus, instead of her just wanting to change me into her little mindless puppet.

TA: you have a poiint.

TA: well, ii'm awake now, you miight a2 well.

CC: T)(anks.

CC: Sea you in a few minutes.

CC:

TA:

twinArmageddons (TA) has disconnected.

I grab my bag and walk downstairs, being careful to tread lightly. I don't know how, but the Condesce hears everything. Last thing I want to do is have more questions and tests shoved in my face, much less by my lusus.

It wasn't all that long ago that I cracked and accidentally revealed Sollux as my moirail; that ended poorly for both of us. I got a lecture- punctuated freely with quite a bit of violence- about lowbloods, how, if I wanted him that much, I should just find a reason to force Sollux into being my slave, and a spiel on "that's just how the Condesce works."

Meanwhile, Sollux wouldn't even tell me what she did to him. I brought it up probably more often than was healthy, but he never really gave me an answer. He just shrugged and said it was enough.

Like that's a decent answer.

I sigh with relief as I make it undisturbed out into the cool early-morning air, fluttering my gills happily into the fresh breeze. It feels delicious after being stuffed up in that place for days, and I break into a run, rushing down narrow streets with a giggle, letting my hair rush free in the slight wind. It's been a while since I went to Sollux's, as he usually meets me at my place when I'm done with school and his classes are done. But that means most of the time I'm cooped up in the palace with just the screams of agony and terror to keep me company. It's nice to get away from that.

Pretty soon, I'm pushing the door open, tiptoeing quietly to his room and stepping into the wreck I know fondly as Sollux's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, he's sitting at his computer. "Hi, Sollux," I sigh, setting my bag down somewhere in the mess.

"Hey, FF." He doesn't turn around, but the monitor's reflecting his half-smirk. "'Sup?"

"The Condesce is being a bitch, that's what's up."

That gets him moving, turning his chair slightly so he can watch me sitting cross-legged in the corner of his bed. "You okay? Cursing isn't usually your thing."

"Are you going to debate it with me?" I sigh, shaking my head slightly.

"Well, yeah." He shrugs. "I'm a lowblood, I'm just supposed to spew bullshit about how great the Condesce is."

"Not around me, you aren't." I purse my lips slightly and lean up against the wall, closing my eyes tiredly. "That's half of what I hate about her. I want people to like me because I'm likable, not because I'll kill them if they don't."

From the chair, Sollux snorts a mirthless laugh. "Bitchmaster kind of has that side covered, don't worry about it."

I open my eyes and look to him concernedly. "But what if people hate me for my lusus?"

He sighs and climbs up onto the bed with me, sitting similarly cross-legged in front of me, elbows on his knees. "FF, you're too nice for that. Even AA doesn't hate you for the Condesce, okay?"

I shrug, unsure. "That's probably some of it."

"Your kismesis hates you for being you, not for anything else," he replies, pushing his glasses up onto his head. Yellowbloods have such pretty eyes, different from every other blood color- one iris is bright, glowing red, and the other's vivid blue. Everyone else just has dark eyes, tinted slightly with their blood color. "She hates your lusus too, but it doesn't get in the way of her hating you."

With a quiet sigh, I reply, "I guess. I just… there's so much that could happen. The Condesce could make her do all kinds of things, and then what? What if Aradia starts hating the Condesce more than me, and she stops hating me so much, and-"

"Oh my God, Fef," Sollux cuts me off. "Listen, she hates your fucking guts. She is my matesprit, I know how she feels about you." His tone is fairly normal, but his lisp is back in full force, the only thing that tips me off to the fact that he's pretty worked up.

"What's wrong?" I ask gently, resting a hand on his arm.

He only shrugs. "What's always wrong?" he lisps. "I have so many problems, they get in the way of being the matesprit I should be."

"It was a full sweep ago and she's forgiven you." I sigh, letting it flutter discontentedly against my gills. "You have to learn to forgive yourself, Sollux."

This is the weird thing about our relationship. We're part of what's usually called a love triangle. Aradia is matesprit to Sollux, who's moirails to myself, who's kismesises to Aradia. I have the need to help Sollux, which ends up usually secondhand helping Aradia, much as I might despise her for herself. I just love him too much to let him have such a dysfunctional relationship with her, so I can't help but make it better.

"That's not even all of it!" He leans his head down onto his hands, running them through his fine hair. "I have so many fucking problems, and nobody even knows them!"

"What are you talking about?" I've never even heard a hint of this, and it's scaring me more than just a little. I mean, it's a normal thing to be worried for him- a side effect of being his moirail- but not usually this much. Not this intense.

He shakes his head vehemently, but I can see his hands trembling.

"Sollux, please don't shut me out. What is wrong?"

Those beautiful eyes flick up to me, and I can see the sparks that tend to herald his completely losing control. "I can't," he pants. "I wish… I could… but I just can't!"

"It's okay," I reply, softly bringing my hands up to his temples and resting my forehead against his. "Calm down, you're okay."

His eyes are still panicked, though, flickering and sparking and crackling, and his hands are clenched. I'm starting to get concerned that he's come up against something too traumatic and it's going to push him into that typical yellowblood loss of control.

So I cautiously foray into something that's far less moirail territory, taking a chance on the fact that it should bring him back to Alterniearth and calm him down. It might make Aradia angry- but really, ticking off your kismesis is part of life.

Gently, moving slowly but urgently, I bring a hand up to his horns, running the tips of my fingers across them, caressing them ever so lightly with my palm. I breathe an inaudible sigh of relief as his face relaxes, his eyes close, and he leans into me. His frame's trembling slightly, shuddering against my hand, but he doesn't look quite so scared anymore. Satisfied, I bring my hands back down to his shoulders. However, I'm soon startled as they start to shake with heavy sobs.

Sollux is… crying.

This has happened literally twice in the time I've known him, and once was because I walked in on him crying under the school's bleachers after the Debacle, long before we were ever moirails. It always scares me when he breaks down that much, and now is no exception.

A quick breath flutters through my gills, making a soft trilling sound, and I lean toward him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. "You're okay," I whisper into his ear. "Everything's okay… I'll protect you, I promise. I'm your moirail for a reason, I won't let you get hurt."

Thankfully, he doesn't try to pull away, instead just sinking into my arms. I gently pet the back of his head, trying to calm him down. I let my arms relax comfortably around him, cradling his rail-thin frame softly.

Something inside me chuckles bitterly at how different this is, how abnormal it is for me to be comforting him. But another part of me is glad for it, giving me a feeling of purpose in our moirallegiance. Feeling like I really do help him as much as he helps me. He hurts, so much, and anything I can do to help that is good.

After a few minutes, he takes a deep breath and sits back, wiping away muted honey tears. "Sorry," he breathes shakily, looking back to me.

"Don't be," I reply. "I'm your moirail for a reason."

"I protect you too," he quietly promises, vividly colored eyes steely with resolve. "I'll go against anyone you need me to."

Happily, I grin. "I know."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: SO I'M NOT SURE WHY BUT KARAT MARKS AREN'T. WORKING. so when you see blank lines, i was probably doing a heart or a diamonds symbol. orz

* * *

=== Be Aradia Megido

I pin my hair back, giving myself a quick smile in the mirror before tossing my bookbag across my shoulder and heading to school; it's barely a five-minute walk, so it's not bad.

Just as I've stepped onto the campus, Sollux pulls up with Feferi, a sight that makes my heart alternately bubble with happiness and hate. Purposefully ignoring Fef, I walk around to Sollux, giving him a quick hug and kiss on the nose. He holds me a little tighter, though, and for half a second longer, which is odd. "Hey," I say quietly. "Everything okay?"

He shrugs. "As okay as anything."

"What's wrong?"

"FF came over." He sighs ever so slightly, the softest breeze on my cheekbones. "I broke down; it was bad."

He's not even trying with the lisp. "Did she do something?"

"Nah," he replies with a quick shake of his head. "Just had a bad night. You might want to make sure you go kiss her at some point, though. She's having some problems with believing you're still in hate with her and all that shit."

My lip curls up slightly. "Of course she is. I'll fill her in to how absolutely wrong she is later."

"That's the Aradia I know and love," he responds with a chuckle. "I'll see you at six."

"All right," I nod. "You're lisping. Pay attention to it."

A sigh, then he nods right back. "I will. See you later." He gets back into his car and drives off to his school, and I'm left alone with just my thoughts.

Half of me wants to believe that Feferi did something to him, though the other half realizes that I just want more reasons to hate the girl. But the fact still remains that she had something to do with my matesprit being… off. If his moirail would've been anyone else, I probably wouldn't mind a bit. But Feferi and I have established that, being kismesises, I'm allowed to get somewhat jealous of her, and she tends to flushflirt with him just to get on my nerves.

I'll take her bait.

It takes me a few minutes, but I do track Feferi down, finding her in front of her locker. Annoyed, I step just a few inches closer than her 'comfortable.' "What did you do to Sollux?"

"Absolutely nothing." The words are honey, but barbed slightly, bribing, taunting, pleading with me to go deeper. Her smile is beckoning, wanting me to give up some ground. I'm by far the more dominant in our relationship, and, being the battle for power it is, she always wants more authority in our kismesissitude.

Snarling ever so slightly, I roll my eyes at her. "Like I believe that. Did you flirt with him?"

"Whale, we are touchy today, aren't we?" She only sticks the audible fish pun in there to get on my nerves, cheekily cocking an eyebrow. "Sollux has his swim trunks in a knot, and immediately you think I'm pulling him toward red infidelity."

Again, the barely discernible snarl on my lips. "You've done it before."

"Only in good fun." Her lip quirks up. "Don't worry, things didn't even go very far."

That's enough to spark the interesting reaction I know she wants. "How far exactly did they go, sea slut?"

"Well, I didn't even try to keep my hands off his horns… and there was a fair amount of cuddling… pretty typical." That taunting, pleading ghost of a smile is on her lips, wanting nothing more than to force me into a response. And I want the same thing she does.

"Did you kiss him?" My voice is low, threatening. We both know she didn't, that she keeps her relationship completely pale and would never even honestly consider crossing that line. More importantly, Sollux knows his boundaries, and is loyal to both of our relationships. This isn't a question, it's a lead-in, wanting her to answer me one thing.

"I don't know." She takes a step toward me, grinning. "You tell me."

And then she's pushing me against the locker, and her hand's laced through my hair, yanking my head up to meet her lips, prompting my hands up against her scalp bringing her right in too. She's kissing me, and it's all teeth and clashing tongues, a battle for dominance that she's won before we even start, forcing me into the uncomfortable submissive role. Her breath is hot against my face, but it smells and tasted overwhelmingly like salt and the sea, the wilderness she longs for mixed with the staleness of where she is. I gasp into her as she lets her nails rake gently across the base of my horns, sending prickles down my spine and making me lean into her, begging for more and feeling her against me doing the same- and then she pulls back, eyes alight with hatred but that spark, longing for my approval and reciprocal hate, evident.

I remember that I wouldn't actually know what Sollux tastes like, and it almost makes me wince.

Someone yells, "Get a room!" and I let an inch of smile pass my lips. Her eyes plead with me, and the breath of a whispered "Please?" brushes my cheek.

I smile meanly. And my dominance is back. "Not enough time," I reply, leaning up to press my own harsh kiss to her lips. "Come over after school."

She nods bouncily, walking off to her first class.

I make my way to my own first class, feeling decently happy. With the distinct lack of physical affection in my flushed quadrant, I've had to survive with just my calignous, which really isn't good. I have to cling to her in order to get it, and I've taken out my confusion with Sollux on her in all kinds of unhealthy ways. I know she hasn't complained, but that doesn't make it okay.

I want Sollux to get better so I'm not doing this to Feferi. I'm her first kismesis, and I know from my last one that this is a bad way for a kismesissitude to work, bordering on abusive.

First class. I walk in, realizing this is one of the ones I have with a human teacher. All the troll students get pushed to the back, while the humans sit in the front. Honestly, I don't care, but the split grading is annoying. Subjective classes are always so hard to pass.

I walk to the back of the room dutifully, sitting fairly close to the front of the troll section. As I pull my tablet out of my bookbag, quickly flipping to the book I'm using for this class, I look up to see Tavros sitting next to me. "Hey, Tav," I grin. "How are you?"

"Pretty good," he replies, giving me a shy smile. "B-but, um, I had to d-drop my, uh, sp-peech therapy," he stammers out, a slight brown blush rushing to his cheeks. "… again…"

I sigh. As much as speech therapy is helping him, he hasn't been able to show it except in scenarios where he's completely comfortable, such as around only me and Gamzee. That means his school-appointed speech therapist really hasn't seen any improvement, and those kids tend to get dropped for "lack of trying." I know Tavros, and he's trying harder than anyone. "It's okay," I reassure him with a quiet nod. "Gamzee and I can come over to your house later and we'll record you again."

"Really?" His eyes light up happily. "Th-thanks, Aradia." It's a toss-up as to whether his stutter gets better or worse when he gets happy or excited. Usually the individual words are better, but the overall thought is jumbled. "I really- really do try at m-my therapy, I just- I can't, uh, can't get it… out sometimes." He seems quite pleased with this sentence, and it's actually not half-bad. The words were pretty clear, it was just the sentence as a whole that needed help.

"Of course," I smile. "I want you to be able to speak confidently, and therapy is helping. Just remember to slow down and think about what you're saying."

He nods. "I tr-try."

Then, as if on cue, I hear the olivebloods in the back, imitating Tavros. It's vile, and I can see my moirail hunch his small shoulders and look down to his desk as they talk. Not only does he stutter, he's in a wheelchair, so he gets this all the time. It's really not helping his confidence issues.

"I'm a d-dorky little bitch," they mock, "and I c-can't protect myself, and I'll live my l-life alone."

That's it.

Angrily, I stand up and stalk back to the olivebloods. "Exactly who the hell do you think you are?"

They eye me critically, then the boy who had been talking replies, "Someone higher on the hemospectrum than you."

"Oh, look at me giving a shit," I hiss. "That is my moirail, who, for your information, also has an amazing matesprit."

He scoffs. "Like you're going to do anything about it."

Twisting a hand in his t-shirt collar, I bring him up to just below eye level, betraying the strength I hide pretty well in my small frame. "Please note," I snarl, "that the last person who made fun of Tavros to my face ended up going home with a black eye and a dislocated shoulder."

His eyes register a spark of fear, though he tries not to show it. "Protective much?" he asks dryly.

"You're making fun of someone so they can't protect themselves." I raise an eyebrow. "When I happen to love that person very much, you better believe I get protective."

Nepeta, the little oliveblood that, up until this point, has been busily completing schoolwork, looks up. "Kamden," she sighs, "just give up. It was wrong fur you to make fun of him like that, and you know it."

He twists his lip into a snarl, but nods. "Fine. I'll stop teasing the doormat."

I drop him harshly into his seat. "Thanks, Nep," I call happily as I walk back to my seat.

"No purroblem!" She giggles.

Just as the teacher comes in, I sit back in my seat, catching an appreciative glance from Tavros. "Thanks," he says quietly.

"This is why I'm your moirail," I smile back. "Any time."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: news flash: i still suck at updating on-time

whooooooooooooops

* * *

=== Be John Egbert

It literally takes about three minutes after I step on-campus for Dave to walk up and notice what's wrong.

"Jesus fuck, Egbert, the hell did you do to yourself?" He still has that indescribably stoic face up, not giving anything away past his dark glasses. Still, though, I'm actually pretty sure he's somewhat concerned; after being best friends our entire lives, seeing the coolkid act break down when we're alone, I get it sometimes.

Dating him for about six months probably helped, too.

"I kind of fell out of a tree." Giving him a slight smile, I recite my admittedly terrible cover story, the only one I've managed to come up with. I want to turn away from him, but, realizing there's no fucking way he'll be able to understand me if I do, I keep my face turned more toward him. "You know I like climbing trees, but I misstepped."

There's an expression of distinct disbelief on his face. "Out of a tree into a pile of rocks?" He holds out a hand, and I unwillingly place mine in his. Quietly, his fingers trace up my cloth bandages, and, when he's done, he quirks an eyebrow. "You fell out of a tree? How much of a dumbass do you take me for?"

I shrug slightly, feeling my cheeks blush hotly. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"At least come up with a half-decent cover story next time." He releases my hand, but walks with me to my locker. "Douchebags been beating you up again?"

"I guess." More mentally than physically, but if you drop a cover story in my lap, I'll take it. "It isn't anything big, don't worry about it."

"Dude, I'm your best fucking friend, I have a right to get worried when you show up to school smelling like a hospital and bandaged to all hells, with just some lame-ass story for cover." He leans up by my open locker door, arms crossed loosely, looking over at me. "Obviously it was big enough to go to the fucking hospital, so spill it."

I wince, pulling notebooks out and pushing textbooks in, awkwardly handling the books; my thoroughly bandaged forearms are definitely getting in the way. "I tried to scrub the hospital smell out, but these kind of get in the way." Sighing, I wave my bandaged arms slightly, glad they didn't have to wrap my hands as well. I wouldn't have been able to do anything.

"Cut on your fingers, too," he notes, only nodding his head slightly toward me. "Seriously, what the hell did you do?"

I swear under my breath, clenching my fingers shut. Didn't think about that. "I didn't do anything," I lie, sighing. "It really isn't a big deal."

"Like fuck it isn't a big deal." He's concerned, I can hear it in his voice. "Fine, then. How'd you even get to the hospital?"

I know there's a slight flush on my cheeks, but I choose to ignore it. "Karkat took me. He was the only one I could get ahold of, so I managed to get him to come drive me to the hospital."

"Vantas willingly drove you to the hospital?" His head cocks slightly, and I can tell from the million other ways that his head moves that he's widened his eyes. "Okay, every cover story you have is complete shit. Vantas wouldn't give half a fuck unless you were actively bleeding to death."

That kind of hurts, if only because I'm desperately trying to pretend that the date tonight isn't going to be just a promise kept. Some attempt to placate me. I know that's really all it is, that he doesn't actually feel anything toward me like what I feel about him, but I just can't help it. "I guess," I mutter, shutting the locker and walking off.

Dave pulls me off into the classroom our school doesn't use this hour and shuts the door, leaning up against me so close I can see his red irises through his glasses. He isn't wearing the reflective ones, which is almost odd for him. "John, cut the shit. What did you do?"

It dawns on me that this should be a lot more uncomfortable than it is.

"I just got hurt, okay?"

"Not good enough." He raises his eyebrows, blonde hair hanging slightly in his eyes behind the glasses. "Listen. I really do care about you. So just tell me."

"I did it to myself," I finally breathe after endless seconds of silence. My eyes drop to his chest, avoiding his gaze. "There was just too much for me to handle, and I wanted to die."

He doesn't move for a full ten seconds, then he gently, ever so gently lifts my chin so he can still see my lips. "Shit. Suicide attempt?" It's less a real question and more unbelieving, unable to really understand.

"Yes, okay?" My eyes are clouding with tears, finally allowing myself to process the emotion from that attempt, safe in a friend's care. I've broken down with him a couple times, so I know he's safe. He never expects the normal stupid cultural perspective of males, never needs me to stay strong and refuse to bend, is okay with my showing emotion in front of him. "I fucking hate myself, Dave. The stuff they say hurts, and it gets to me, it makes me wonder why I'm alive. I don't deserve any of this, I shouldn't be alive, I'm just a stupid failure, and it would be so much better for everyone if I just died."

He lets me sink down the wall, following me quietly and not even making a sound when I start to sob, leaning my head on my knees. Soon enough, his arms are laced awkwardly around me, letting me cry into his shirt. Dave's never been one for much physical contact, but he's grown to it through me and Jade. It's still awkward, as he hasn't really picked up how to put his arms, but he's there.

And sometimes, that's all that matters.

He sits there and lets me cry, not saying anything, not offering anything, just being a warm body and letting me trust that he really does care.

My moirail's good at this too, but she goes to a different school. I'm kind of scared for the next time I see her, honestly. There won't be any guarantee of her taking it calmly, and she'll probably freak out quite a bit. She's also going to get mad because I didn't tell her for a few days.

But right now, I just need to last the day.

After a few minutes, I pull away from Dave, wiping my eyes with the palms of my hands. He brings his hands down to his knees, sitting cross-legged next to me. "Thanks," I mutter.

"You realize you can just fucking call me, right?"

"Well, you were busy." I look down at my lap, slightly embarrassed.

"Egbert, your life is more important than a date with my girlfriend." He sighs slightly. "Just call me next time, okay? If you're thinking about trying this again? We're best friends for a fucking reason." This is the first time I've tried that he's actually recognized a suicide attempt, from the extent of the injuries I gave myself.

He does care, I know he does. I nod. "Okay."

"So." He leans up against the door, getting into a more comfortable position. Coincidentally, it also keeps the door closed. "I mention Vantas and you start blushing like a shota schoolkid. Worse than usual. What's up?"

I grin slightly, rushing rapidly back to my usual happy, joking self. "He promised me a date on the way to the hospital." I know he was scared to death; I could see it in his eyes even past the blood-loss-induced fog. But looking back on it, it strikes me as rather amusing, the amount of things that had to happen for this to work. "To keep me alive."

Dave shrugs. "You got the hots for Vantas, I already knew that."

I sigh, ever so slightly irritated at his choice of words, as always. "Dave, how many times do I have to tell you, I don't even understand what that means."

"Unfortunately," he snorts. "You and your 'romantic attraction' to that kid."

"Hey," I object, slightly stung. "It's a legitimate thing. I just-"

"Oh, I know," he replies with just the slightest smile. "Calm down, Egbert, I got you. So what, is this a two-way street, or are all the Egbert cars trucking to Vantasville on their lonesome?"

I wince slightly. "Nah, he's Karkat. He barely even admitted being friends with me, and he thought I would forget about this promise." With a shrug, I continue, "I get one date. The first date I've actually had with someone I like, and he doesn't like me back. Take notes, I think that's the actual definition of irony."

"I still have no idea how the hell you dated me for six months without being attracted to me." He smirks slightly. "I am damn attractive, after all."

Laughing, I shove at him playfully. "That's not how it works, and you know it. I find you handsome, but-"

"You just don't want to fuck me. It's all cool," he replies. "Don't think Jade would much like us being best friends if you did."

"At any rate," I laugh over his voice, "Karkat said I could have one date, which I'm getting tonight. Then I'll go on my way and wonder if I'll ever find someone else." I shrug. Really, I haven't been romantically attracted to anyone other than Karkat, so it'll just be normal life again.

There's a short pause. Then Dave replies, "You really counting Vantas entirely out like that?"

I'm kind of surprised, honestly. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugs. "You're fucking adorable as hell, Egbert. You and the little douche would just fit well. Opposites attracting and all that shit."

"He hates me," I reply, rather befuddled. "Or, well, hated."

"No, he hates _me_. Trying to pull me into that clusterfuck he calls 'romance.' Bane of my goddamn existence," he shrugs, turning his head slightly toward me. "But he admitted you were a friend. Vantas just doesn't do that."

"Well, at that point I was telling him I wanted to die." A bright pink flushes across my cheeks. "That probably prompted it."

"Probably," he concedes. "Still, though. I wouldn't entirely count him out; he's a douchey little brat, but there's a heart in there somewhere."

"All right." His words boost me just a little bit. "Thanks."

"No prob."

The bell rings, and I scramble to pick my books up. "Oh shit, gotta get to class."

"Calm down, Egbert." He helps me work past the bandages, then opens the door. "After you."

I stick my tongue out at him, but walk through, speeding pretty quickly to my next class.

Today's actually shaping up to go pretty well.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: screams loudly because the update had the word "alterniearth" in it

* * *

=== Be Karkat Vantas

Good God, I hate school.

I don't particularly hate the work, though my straight B's are basically achieved by doing the normal half-assed work slightly better than everyone else. I hate the people, but that's just life. I hate all people, just in general. The teachers are pretty terrible, true; I hate all of them for the most part.

But what really gets me is when they're all combined. One or two isn't bad, but all three makes me want to hurt someone.

Currently, I'm sitting at a lunch table with Aradia, Tavros, Nepeta, Terezi, Equius, and Feferi. Pretty normal, with a long table, chairs at the head and foot and benches along the sides. It allows for far more people to squeeze into a table than is probably healthy.

It's not really hard to tell who's in whose quadrant, like it rarely is. Nepeta and Equius are all cuddled up, or as much as Equius will allow, the perfect picture of moirallegiance, Aradia and Feferi are glaring daggers at one another, and Tavros is talking to Aradia and trying- if failing- not to sound like a broken record. Terezi and I are mostly just sitting together and observing the spectacle.

"Seriously," laughs Terezi quietly, "Feferi and Aradia are going to end up pailing at school, at this rate."

"Well, they already made out in the fucking hallway before school even started," I growl.

"Really?" A mischievous smile pulls at her lips. "You didn't tell me that, Karkles."

"I didn't really think it was something you needed to know." I roll my eyes, ignoring the nickname. "You and your creepy fucking pervyness."

She just giggles. "You know it."

I scowl and go back to sitting. I didn't actually get lunch. There's so many weird emotions running through my head, I'd honestly rather focus on being half-starved.

Startled, I jump as Terezi's fingers brush my cheek. "You okay?" Her voice is low, concerned. "You're acting weird, even for you."

"Just thinking." I shrug. "Never a fucking good thing, not when it comes to me."

"Eat," she commands, pushing her plate toward me. "I won't eat most of it anyway, it confuses me." Her plate's mostly vegetables, but much of the plate is taken over by a bowl of soup. From previous experience, I know that soup is Terezi's worst enemy. Because of how she smells and tastes in order to see, the colors versus the actual tastes in soups and casseroles annoy her too much, and so she mostly sticks to raw foods.

"Why the fuck did you even get soup?" I scowl, pushing it back to her.

She laughs. "Because," she explains, popping a grape tomato into her mouth and shoving the plate back at me. "I already know you. You never eat, and you need to get in that habit."

"I'm good, thanks."

"I swear to everything, sometimes I wish we were still matesprits," she sighs, teeth gritted, "if only because I could actually make you do things." Her face is set into her version of a glare, an expression I've learned to distinguish over the past sweep.

"Aching pain in my stomach- way fucking better than aching pain in my chest." Roughly, I shove the plate back to her. "You eat it."

She stops for a second, then grabs my hand and hauls me toward the outside of the cafeteria. I only really have time to process it after we're actually out of the room. "Whoa, Terezi, the fuck-"

By that time, we're out in the hallway, and she whirls to face me, cutting off my protests abruptly. "Okay, seriously, Karkat. What's going on?"

"I'm going on a fucking date with someone I held in my arms, covered in fucking blood," I spit. "Do you even know how fucking much this is going to hurt?"

"Who?" It's only one word, but there are so many questions behind it.

"John Egbert." I heave an annoyed sigh. "Stupid fucking human."

"What happened to him?"

I don't even hesitate in telling her. We're exes; I probably shouldn't tell her as much as I do. But I trust Terezi as much as if we'd never broken up. "He tried to fucking commit suicide. Long story short, I ended up at his apartment desperately hoping he wasn't going to die in my arms. I had nightmares, and it wasn't just Aranea and Serket, it was Egbert too, and I couldn't fucking help either of them."

There's a sharp pause, full of the tension I'm shoving into it, trying to push her away.

She nods. "It makes sense. And… you know how much I hate saying this, but you're never going to completely get over Aranea. It's never going to happen, because it was traumatic as hell. Someone you loved died. You have to understand that it's something that will hurt forever." Her arms cross over her chest loosely. "But you can still accept that hurt and try to continue."

"I'm trying." I scoff ever so slightly. "But this stuff doesn't fucking help. 'Oh hey, you might fucking die, let's just get together so I can hurt myself again. Sounds like a great idea!'" I snarl, clenching my hands in my hair. "Stupid bulge-biting, nook-chafing, slime huffing waste of time that I am."

Her hands reach up to mine, gently untangling them from my hair. "Stop putting yourself down so much," she says softly, cool hands surrounding my warm ones. "You have just as much right as anyone else to be happy, got it?"

"Tell that to Spiderbitch," I hiss. "Let's ask her about how, after this has happened four fucking times, I still can't protect her."

Terezi flinches slightly. "That's not your fault," she sighs. "You tried."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, and I failed miserably."

"You did not," she insists. "You did the most you could. Nobody could fault you, because you couldn't have done anything more."

"I could've fucking tried," I snarl down at her. "I could've kept Gamzee away, I could've made sure Serket had someone to keep her safe, I could've-"

Cutting me off, her hand is sharply against my mouth, and her face is so close I can see sightless eyes through her sunglasses, blank irises staring up at me. "Karkat Vantas, listen to me right now," she spits, baring sharp teeth. "Vriska is messed up. But she was screwed long before any of this happened. I'm not a crazy bitch who says she deserved this, because she didn't. Nobody deserves any of that. But you did not do this to her! You have to accept that, because it's the goddamn truth!" With a sigh, her arm drops, hands going to my shoulders. "I love you way too much to let you do this to yourself, Karkat. Vriska is one screwed-up bitch. But she was always like that, and I know that better than anyone. Don't beat yourself up over her."

I pull her into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around her chest. "I try. But sometimes… I feel like I'm just this massive fucking failure. It hurts."

"I know." Her breath is hot against my ear, arms around my neck. "Believe me, I feel the same way sometimes. But after a while, you have to learn that you can only do so much."

"Yeah," I sigh. "The hard part is accepting it."

She nods, leaning back and running a hand through my hair. "You can do it, though. I have faith in you."

"Why the fuck did we break up?" I ask, a slight chuckle on my lips.

"Because," Terezi laughs, "we've always worked like this."

I shrug, nodding. "True. Nothing really changed when we got together."

"Except the pailing."

"It was awkward," I counter, mildly teasing.

She snorts. "I didn't hear you complaining."

"Touché." Smiling slightly, I brush my lips against her temple. It's so second nature, we've forgotten that it usually has romantic connotations. "You do make a pretty fucking awesome friend, though."

"You know," she replies, "when you get a new matesprit, they better not be super jealous. They're not going to like how touchy-feely you are with me."

"If I get a new matesprit."

"No, when," she insists. "You'll find someone. They'll fit you just right as a matesprit, in ways I just can't."

"Whatever," I sigh. "We'll fucking see."

She grabs my hand and presses her lips to it, leaving behind a wet, bright red mark.

"Exactly why the fuck do you even wear lipstick?" I inquire as she pulls me back into the cafeteria. "You lick it and it gets everywhere."

"You don't question the candy red, Karkles," she cackles. "Note how my nails and glasses are exactly the same color, and I lick those too."

I roll my eyes at her. "You're fucking gross."

"I know." She pulls me into my seat again; everyone's staring, but I honestly don't care. "I take pride in it." Once more, she pushes the plate of food toward me. "Now, am I going to force this stuff down your throat, or are you going to suck it up and eat it?"

I stick my tongue out at her, but take the soup. "Happy?"

"Very."


	12. Chapter 12

=== Be Tavros Nitram

I look up at the rest of the lunch table, still unsure as to what's just happened. We all kind of take a hands-off approach to Terezi and Karkat's relationship; they know what they're doing, and we don't get much of a say in it. Still, though, it's not often that Terezi drags Karkat out into the hallway for ten minutes and then hauls him back without even providing an explanation.

Karkat catches me absent-mindedly staring at him and scowls darkly, causing me to sharply look to Aradia, a blush frosting my cheeks. I tend to zone out and get caught staring at people; when those people don't really like me, I tend to get embarrassed.

Okay, in reality, I'm pretty easy to embarrass. "Paraplegic doormat" has been my nickname for the last sweep, and I can't say it's undeserved.

I've been shy all my life. Growing up, my stutter was very pronounced, and the other kids usually couldn't understand me, so I didn't really have many friends. I kept to myself, not really talking to others or working on my stutter. At some point, Aradia, one of the only kids who made an effort to understand me past the stutter, convinced me to start talking in class, and I got promptly sent to speech therapy. The therapy was starting to help immensely, and I was starting to be able to make myself heard, learning how to be more confident.

And then Vriska threw me off a cliff.

That worked wonders for my self-confidence.

I backslid to basically where I was at first, where the stutter was absolutely everywhere, and difficult to hear past. At this point, Aradia and Gamzee are the only people I really feel confident around. Usually I can speak my thoughts around them; in fact, they encourage me to do so. It's still hard around anyone else, though, and I kind of sound like a skipping CD for the most part. But at least I'm trying.

"Uh, Aradia?" I ask, pulling gently on her shirt to get her attention. I feel embarrassingly like a child when I do this, but my voice is generally too soft to get people's attention, and my wheelchair makes me far shorter than everyone else.

She looks over at me with a soft smile. "Yes, Tavros?"

"Well, I was w-w-wondering what y-your sched-dule after, uh, after school was." I smile slightly back at her.

"Oh, so I can record you for your speech therapy." She sighs gently. "Feferi's coming over after school, but I think I'm good after that, if Gamzee's open."

A bright smile melts over my face. "Gamzee's always, uh, o-open." A slight laugh draws attention from others at the table, and I feel a hot blush in my cheeks as I look down to my lap, breath catching slightly.

Aradia leans over to me, tapping the underside of my chin to get me to look up. Unassumingly, she grabs my hand, and my breathing frees. I usually try not to attract too much attention, because most attention, in my case, is bad. She unlocks that, reminding me that some attention, just for being me, is perfectly okay. "That he is," she replies. "Although I'd still prefer to meet at your house. All the smoke and… stuff… probably isn't good for anyone's lungs."

I wince ever so slightly. "Stuff" being Aradia's way of saying "drugs." It's weird how reserved she tends to be about that, given that her lusus could make Gamzee blush. "Well, yeah, probably… probably n-not." Hastily, I shrug. "He'll pr-probably be good with c-c-coming to my house."

Aradia's smile is warm and comforting, keeping me safe and grounded in that way only a moirail can. "So, when do you want me to come over?"

Sharply, I shrug, jumping slightly as a lock of chocolate-brown hair falls into my eyes. Some days I actually style my hair, shaping it into a Mohawk that juts up above my rather abnormally large horns. And then other days, like today, I just don't want to. It gets brushed back and allowed to do what it will, which usually means spill into my eyes all the time. "Maybe… like, four?" I look up at her cautiously. "I mean, um, if it's- it's okay w-with you."

She pauses for a second, doing the calculations in her head, then slowly nods. "That should work. I'll stay as long as you want, but I have to leave for a bit at six to go see Sollux." A mischievous smile flits across her lips, and she adds, "I could always leave you and Gamzee alone at your house so I can spend some actual time with Sollux."

I flush brightly as I realize what she's getting at. "Um, well, w-whate-ever y-you want t-to do." Whoa stutter. I need to calm down and think about my words.

She laughs, grinning widely. "We can decide later. Really, we only need a bit. You are getting better, Tavros. Remember that a sweep ago you wouldn't hardly talk to anyone, and even I could barely understand you. You can talk now. It seems small compared to everyone else, yeah, but it's huge for you."

I smile widely. Every time she compliments me on the fact that I am learning, it makes me happy. She's important to me like that. "I'm trying," I reply, now paying attention to the syllables and sounds even more. It's easier when I remember that nobody's even listening.

"Taaaaaaaavros!" There's a mockingly light voice by my ear, and deep blue acrylic nails tap my cheek, causing me to stiffen up in fear. Vriska peeks around my shoulder past her glasses, smiling like a mountain lion. I can see the edges of her scar around the one blacked out lens. "Have you been avoiding me all day? I haven't even seen you."

I can't really talk around her. Every time I try, I turn into a stammering mess, and it amuses her to no end. She's so intent on capturing me as a kismesis, and if I wasn't so terrified of her, I might try. But she did throw me off a cliff, paralyzing me. I wouldn't put much of anything past her. Besides that, she gets all up in my personal space on a daily basis, enjoying how uncomfortable it makes me.

"Vriska…" Aradia's voice is threatening. "Maybe you just didn't see him. Go away."

Vriska snorts, but her eyes break their gaze with me, flitting to Aradia. "With this thing?" Her metal hand bangs the handle of my wheelchair, causing me to jump. Smooth nails gently stroke my cheek, but I know better than to pull away; those nails can bite. "He's been avoiding me. Plus, you have no say in this."

"More than anyone; he's my moirail." Aradia's dark maroon eyes are hard as steel. "Move away from him, he doesn't want you there."

"Says who?" A cruel smile twinkles in black-cobalt eyes as she looks back to me. "I don't hear him saying it."

She's goading me on, I know she is, trying to provoke me into answering, realizing I won't be able to really say anything. But I look past her to Aradia, who's silently encouraging me to at least try.

So I decide to put myself out there a little.

I form the words in my head, imagining how they'll feel on my tongue, mentally connecting syllables- all things normal people can do automatically, but I actually have to think about. Thinking about my words. Making sure they'll come out correctly.

Heart pounding in my chest, I shove my self-consciousness aside to say three words. I shake my head sharply. "No. G-g-go awa-ay."

Aradia's eyes widen and her mouth drops open slightly. Then her mouth widens into a grin the utter happiness of which I haven't seen on her face in ages. Her eyes are shining, obviously pleased.

There's a surprised burst of cruelly amused laughter from next to my ear. "I don't believe it. You stood up for yourself." A firm kiss is pressed to my cheek, one that could've been mistaken for affectionate if not for the hint of teeth nipping at my skin. "It's adorable."

"He told you to go." Aradia's voice is outwardly calm, but I can tell she's furious. "So go."

"Mmm…" her voice is teasing, ever so slightly toying with me like I'm a plaything. "No." The word makes my joy in standing up for myself fleeting. "I'll keep him." Her hand makes its way to the base of my horns, tracing a sharp nail across them, causing me to bite my lip in pain.

"I said get your fucking hands off him," Aradia snarls, eyes flashing dangerously. "I mean it. Right now."

"And who's going to make me?"

"So help me God," my moirail growls, petite frame looking completely intimidating. "I will sic Gamzee on you." Her hands are firmly planted on the table, like she's ready to get up and physically fight Vriska at any second. "Get away."

I wince as Gamzee's brought up. Aradia's done this before, and every time, I hate it. The threat is empty, because I wouldn't let it happen for the world. She could literally throw me off another cliff and she wouldn't deserve that.

The threat does its job, though, because Vriska flinches, pulling away from me with a barely-discernible shudder. That lazy smile's still touching her lips, but it's more forced. More tense. "Fine." As my eyes follow her, her hand comes up in a sultry wave toward me. "Later, Pupa," she snips, walking back to her lunch table. Eridan scowls over at us as she sits at their table.

Once Vriska's gone, Aradia turns to me with that amazingly wide grin. I forget about my reservations having to do with the threats, as they worked and she didn't have the ability to follow through on them. "You.. you realize what you just did, right?"

Shyly, I nod, stating back over at her. "I… uh… yeah, I th-think I just, um, s-stood up to V-V-Vrisk-ka." My stutter's still coming out far too pronounced, running off leftover emotion from that encounter, but I know she can understand me.

She all but squeals, wrapping her arms around my neck and lightly kissing my cheek, erasing the memory of Vriska's harsh lips. A bright blush covers my cheeks, not from her affection- we're so close, it's not even a problem- but from the fact that she's drawing attention. "See, Tav? You are getting better!"

"I g-guess."

She laughs softly. "I love you, Tavros. And you're better than Spiderbitch any day."

The smile on my face gets just a little bit wider. "Th-thanks." Hugging her tightly, I continue, "I l-love you, um, t-too, Aradia." Aradia. A word that should be so difficult to push past my tongue, but one I've said so often that I don't even have to think about it anymore.

Gosh, I love my moirail.


	13. Chapter 13

=== Be Spiderbitch.

Wow, you're a wonderfully kind and loving person.

Go back, ask again correctly.

=== Be Vriska Serket

Better.

I slip into my seat at the table, rejoining everyone. Eridan scowls darkly toward the other table, but I flick his shoulder sharply and he looks back to us. Smirking slightly, I look around at the rest of the table, surveying the occupants, making a mental tally.

A petite rustblood, horns pressing up above incredibly curly, short black hair tied back with an orange rag, volatile temper evident in her snarling eyes, named Srella. Llesst, a tall, forbidding jadeblood, calm but authoritative, eyes cold and calculating, sharp horns jutting out over her pixie-cut ebony hair. Lastly, and most strangely, a pair of purpleblood twins, Telsta and Dentas, snarling eyes alert and deadly lurking under silky raven hair, horns looming talk over the table, teeth bared in menacingly dangerous smiles.

We're the trouble kids. The ones that are all spit and poison honey, bare teeth and sharp smiles, cussing and empty pleasantries, knives in back and kisses in front.

And we're damn proud of it.

"Any luck?" Srella asks, crossing her arms over her dark chocolate-brown t-shirt and leaning back in her chair lazily.

I shrug. "Ticked off his moirail pretty fucking badly."

"How fucking badly?" Her eyes twinkle darkly. "Maybe you have a chance with her."

"Oh, as if," I snort. "I'm pretty sure she actually hates me too much for that." With a shrug, I continue, "The bitch doesn't really interest me anyway."

"But you didn't achieve your desired mission." Llesst enunciates every word, her deep eyes hinting at a humor in my failure. I wouldn't be surprised, not from any of them.

A slight grimace. "No, his moirail is fucking protective," I hiss, running my good hand over the metal one. However, when I remember other parts of the conversation, the smile's back, tugging at the corners of my mouth. "He tried to stand up to me, though. First time he's talked to me in almost a year."

"He sounds like an adorable fucking bitch," laughs Srella. Fingers, half-covered in her fingerless gloves, tap her arms. "Is he still scared of you?"

"I think so." A grin flirts with my lips. "It's adorable."

_No it's not. It's fucking awful, and you're a terrible person for doing this._

Inwardly startled, I push the thought away. I'm a strong person, one who loves pushing boundaries and hurting people who get in my way. There's no room there for "remorse about hurting the people I've hurt." I enjoy it, I don't care, I can sit here and think about it with a smile. I hurt people; it's my thing, and something I'm proud of.

_But it isn't something you want to be proud of._

Finally, I get fed up, shoving all the regret and self-doubt, compassion and hurt, utter weakness, away. My attention's pulled to Srella again as she snorts a laugh, tossing her head to flick dark bangs out of her eyes. "Maybe he'll eventually give you a chance. Then you can actually have a kismesis." Her eyes are full of taunting pity.

I snarl over at her. "I'll get him eventually."

She just smirks back at me. In this group, a kismesis is everything. You could have a matesprit and a moirail, but if you're lacking a kismesis, you will never hear the end of it. It's even worse when you have an auspice and just can't get a kismesis to save your life. There is such a thing as platonic hate; I can't just fall in hate with anyone.

Honestly… I don't think Tavros and I will ever actually work out. As auspices, sure. As kismesises… no. Especially not with his matesprit. My breath hisses out at the remembrance of him.

Honestly, I could go the rest of my life without even hearing his name again.

I know of one other troll who has a black crush on me… and I'm starting to wonder if I should start to go that direction.

Whatever. I'll find some kismesis eventually.

Telsta grins over at me, dark purple eyes bright and wickedly intelligent. "I don't know," he growls, baring teeth in a sharp smile. "All your quadrants are fuckin' empty."

"I have a moirail," I snap, baring my own teeth slightly, eyes flashing angrily. "He's a wonderful person, thank you very much."

Llenst cocks an eyebrow amusedly. "Doesn't count," she says, voice melodious but sharp.

"Yeah, call us when you get a real moirail," prods Srella, smiling nastily at me. "Like, a troll."

"He's as much my fucking moirail as any troll," I spit. "Human or not, we're moirails, and it's still a valid moirallegiance like any other."

Dentas just snorts. "You two are just best friends. There's nothing special about it to a human."

I roll my eyes at him. "That's not moirallegiance, dumbass. He's just as pale toward me as I am toward him; I couldn't live without him, he couldn't live without me. We're moirails. I don't want to hear it."

"But-"

"Guys." Eridan speaks up calmly from next to me. "Knock it off." His tone is forceful, but with that seadweller's wobble behind it. People tend to think its a speech problem, how he says his Vs and Ws, and he lets them think what they want. Speech therapy's been brought up time and time again, but, even had he felt the need to go, his lusus, Dualscar, forbids it.

Violently.

I know the real reason anyway, and it's not something speech therapy is going to help.

Srella just rolls her eyes. "She doesn't even have a kismesis. You do. Tease her all you fucking want."

"I'd rather not." He purses his lips tightly. "She's just defendin' her fuckin' moirail." It's like he's physically unable to pronounce that ending "g," another thing that's almost gotten him sent to speech therapy. "It's what you're supposed to do." There's the little wobble in his "w," making him basically pronounce it twice.

"Fine," she snips, smirking meanly. "Just do everything for your girlfriend. Don't let her defend herself."

Eridan and I glance at one another, reaching the unspoken decision to let both the girlfriend remark and the insult slide in an instant. He shrugs, turning back to the table. "It's just I don't like you teasin' her so much. She's one of us too."

"Fine," replies Llesst coldly. "However, the reality is that most of your quadrants are, in fact, empty. Both black and… one and a half red." She shrugs. "You're basically the most romantically hopeless person here."

"And that's saying something, when Eridan's sitting right there." Srella laughs, gesturing to the seadweller next to me. "At least he's got a stable kismesis."

"And here," growls Telsta, "that's all that fuckin' matters."

I just sigh and shake my head, almost literally biting my tongue to keep from saying something I'll regret. "Whatever," I mutter under my breath. "Eventually I'll find one."

Eridan plants both hands on either side of the bench where he's sitting, and one of them rests unassumingly on my real hand, the one on his side. He's not holding my hand or anything stupid, not even doing anything overly douchey, but it's… there.

With an effort, I keep myself from looking at him, as I know how much that would betray. But inside, I'm thinking.

We're close, Eridan and I. I've seen him at his weakest, and he's seen me at mine, so many times. And we need one another. But I can only wish for him as a friend, because he doesn't allow landdwellers anything much. I could have the biggest flushcrush imaginable on him, and he'd never return that because I'm just a landdweller.

Uh, not that I'm saying I do have a flushcrush on him. It was… uh… hypothetical.

Besides that, I'd have to contend with Dualscar. He already hates me enough for my existing relationship with Eridan, and I've had to bandage the kid up too many times after a beating from his lusus; I'm not about to knowingly put him through that, I don't care how black points in our relationship have been. There's not really any chance of us becoming moirails, as he has a palecrush on Kanaya, and I would never leave John for him. And his inborn adherence to the hemospectrum would kill any chance of a matespritship.

So, I guess I'll have to be content with just being his friend.

But I'm not deaf. I've heard the flittering rumors, rumors that the hypothetical flushcrush is returned. And, as much as I know it's a pile of shit, I can't help but wonder. My mind is continually torn between thinking he's just being a good friend and wondering if he's flushflirting; usually he's the biggest douche alive when he's flushflirting, but with my history… I could see him trying to be gentle. Not wanting to upset me too badly by saying the wrong thing and touching on memories I just want to push back.

God, this is so confusing.

It's hard. I want to just know how my quadrants are going to pan out and be content. But I don't know if I'll ever have full quadrants, or if I'll even fill a couple. Llesst is right, I'm so romantically hopeless, it's impossible.

Sometimes, my relationship with Eridan feels so much like pale infidelity. I never want it to be, will never push my relationship into that place, will never make John even the slightest bit jealous of Eridan, but it still feels that way at times.

And if there's one thing I strive for, it's keeping my quadrants separate.

It's not like I want to be so confused. It's not something I'm used to, and I absolutely hate it.

But I can't see any other way.


	14. Chapter 14

=== Be Rose Lalonde

I pull my phone out of my pocket, inwardly sighing as I read the caller ID. Looking up at the clock, I do some calculations. It's almost 12:30… I make a quick decision and hold the phone to my ear.

"You have seven and a half minutes, darling brother. Make it quick."

There's a pause, assumingly as the middleman translates for him, then Dave's voice crackles through my phone speaker. "Hey, sis. Nice to talk to you, too."

"I'm assuming you had a legitimate reason to call me." There's a slightly alarming amount of concern behind his normal nonchalant tone, and it worries me. "Your time is rapidly running out."

"Did you honestly not know Egbert was suicidal, or do you just keep on neglecting to tell me shit?"

I forgot how much I like talking to Dave sometimes.

"I suspected it. What happened?" You almost have to be blunt in talking to him; the passive-aggressive gambit doesn't work here.

There's a slightly longer pause than normal from the other end of the line. "Tried to kill himself over the weekend. Why the hell didn't you tell me or Harley?"

"You couldn't have changed anything," I reply absent-mindedly. "How bad?"

"Forearms are bandaged pretty damn well, miscellaneous on his upper arms. We could've done something, Lalonde, and you know it."

"No, he suppresses negative emotions. They only come out in extreme breakdowns. If you tried to pry when he wasn't ready, he would've pushed you away." I think for half a second. "Serious attempt, then. He's still alive and playing it off, though?" Dave and I generally have conversations like this. Two topics being thrown back and forth every paragraph. It's hell for translators, and makes our conversations a bit longer than is necessary.

"He's Egbert, he buries everything behind a giggle and a shitty cover story. So you just let him fucking try to kill himself?" Dave's getting mad at me now. I need to take a step back and explain my reasonings, direct his anger at John's state of mind away from me.

You don't get mad at a psychology major and expect to stay that way for long.

I sigh. "I gave him all the applicable resources, talked to him, and tried to tell him to talk to his queerplatonic partner," I reply, still rather unwilling to use the troll term "moirail." It's not accepted in most of my classes, so I use the human term "queerplatonic partner," which is our equivalent. I've done endless papers on this idea. There's also no ASL sign for it, but translators can generally spell it out pretty easily. "That's the thing with John. I could do an entire semester's worth of final papers on that boy. How he hasn't already gone clinically insane, I honestly don't know."

"He tried to kill himself, I'd say he's pretty goddamn insane." I can hear Dave's sharp intake of breath, then a quiet hiss as he lets it out. "At least we wouldn't be so confused if we already knew he was suicidal. His dad and little sis are going to come back and completely flip their shit."

"I highly doubt Casey will do anything even moderately similar, Dave," I reprimand him gently. "She's four. You did more not knowing than you would've if you'd known. Did he break down when you pushed at him?"

"Yeah, kid cried on me before school started this morning." He still sounds moderately concerned, at least as far as visible emotions go with him. "I could seriously flip my shit when I was four, I bet the kid could too."

"Casey is being raised by Mr. Egbert, not Bro Strider." Honestly, I don't think there's legal documentation of Bro's first name. It could legitimately be "Bro" for all I know. "Don't show overly sympathetic pity to John, whatever you do. Don't put him down or tell him he was terrible for this either, but pity will put us considerably back."

"Wasn't planning on it, sis. I know Egbert too well for that. Bro could teach the kid to be a total badass, and Dad Egbert could teach her to mind her manners."

"Something tells me your father would certainly not-"

"Not my dad." Suddenly his voice is cold and hard as ice, interrupting both me and the translator, or at least that's what I assume.

I allow myself a slight smile. "There's a reason you're my step-brother and not my step-uncle."

"Rose, we've been over this." First names rather than last; he means business. "He's my big brother, not my dad."

"You're really sticking to that?"

"It's worked for seventeen years, I'm sure as hell not changing it now." His voice is as close to snarling as I've heard Dave in years. "Back the fuck off, Rose. I'm not arguing with you about my damn brother."

"Actually, it seems like that's what you're doing right now." Once you get him going, he'll keep going until you at least slow down. In the name of sibling rivalry and a bit of fun, I don't feel like backing down whatsoever.

I can literally hear the silent anger on the other end. After a second, he replies, "Don't pull this bullshit on me. We were talking about Egbert."

"You're right, we were." I smile sweetly into the phone. "You changed the subject. You with your insecurities about your brother-father."

"Fuck you, Lalonde, just make sure Egbert doesn't die."

"I'll do my best." I hang up on him before he has the chance to reply. It's petty and childish, but I really do like having the last word in a conversation.

Walking off to the next class, slight heels clicking on the tile floor, I smooth my knee-length black skirt and check my top to be sure it's still presentable. Being only seventeen, I try my hardest to present well, and the black half-vest is my old standby, thrown over the light lavender dress shirt that brings out the purple in my eyes. I've learned that this outfit makes me look older, not quite so young and naive. I get treated as a scholar rather than a high school student.

I spot Kanaya talking with another colleague and walk to go sit next to her. This is quite an up-and-coming university; every class is joint taught by a troll and a human, and troll-human friendships are encouraged. Kanaya is going for a counseling major, so we do have a class together, which provides a chance for us to work side-by-side.

"Hello, Kanaya," I say absent-mindedly, slipping into the chair to the right of her. "How are you today?"

"Oh, hello, Rose." She has a good voice for counseling, firm but melodic, enunciating words clearly but with the slightest ring of humor and sass in the back of her throat. "I am quite well, and yourself?"

"As well as ever," I reply. "Some disconcerting news about John, but I'll survive. As will he, quite probably."

"Probably?" Kanaya furrows her eyebrows slightly. "Is something wrong?"

I shrug. "Somewhat. I am near positive it will sort itself out."

She doesn't look all too relieved, but nods. "If I can be of any assistance, I would be more than delighted to provide it."

"I know, Kanaya." I smile slightly over at her, noting with amusement the distinct jade blush that plays across her cheeks as I do so. People think they can hide a crush from me. Really. My brother is the only one who can even try to do that, and even he usually fails. Kanaya doesn't even stand a chance.

And yet I'm not going to say anything.

If she honestly wants me, she'll have to come get me.

The teachers walk in, and all of us settle down. Well. Another day of mind-numbingly boring start-of-the-semester university. Learning all the same things I learned last semester before we can finally move on.

Just have to last the day.


	15. Chapter 15

=== Be Dave Strider

I hiss angrily when the translator signs that she's actually disconnected on me.

Dammit, Lalonde.

I purse my lips and end the call, annoyed and incredibly frustrated. I'm generally really good at being calm and collected, especially when it comes to translator calls that I use when I don't feel like trying to decipher phone calls. Right now, though, I wish I could just throw my phone at a wall and be a terribly unironic, angry, childish seventeen-year-old for a minute.

But if there's one thing Bro taught me well, it was how not to give in to that.

I'm not a normal seventeen-year-old boy. I'm a Strider.

Sighing slightly under my breath, I push the door open again, stepping from outside into the school's empty room.

There's always one room in the school left completely unused; it may change from week to week, but it's still one empty room. It's honestly because we pull so many damn shenanigans without an easy way in and out of the building. We actually decreased the amount of crazy shit that happens by instituting this rule.

To put it simply: nobody here gives a shit about our education. They just want to keep us from making trouble in the streets. Technically, we have to follow all these bullshit rules that the schools make up, but in practice, so long as nobody dies, everything's good. The empty room's been used for everything from auspice fights to matesprit pailings to a quiet room to talk on the phone.

In our informal rules, you're allowed two class sessions a week in here. They have to be different classes, and no more than three people in a class can be absent at the same time. Six people in the room at one time, and you can leave the campus as long as you come back before next class period.

We literally run our school better than the school does.

There's a full list of these informal rules. God forbid someone transfer schools without a friend here to explain them; we have our own "law enforcement," the asshats that have gotten away with bullying Egbert so often, and if you step even slightly out of line, they'll be on you like bees to honey. I promised to nail them to the concrete with katanas if they even tried to touch Harley or Egbert, so the abuse is mostly verbal.

I can protect Harley from that, but Egbert won't let me protect him.

The amount of fighting I've done on those two's behalf, usually without them knowing, I swear…

I love them both, even if the Strider in me doesn't often let me show it. Harley, being my girlfriend, usually sees it more often, and she's damn good at pulling me out of being a Strider and into being a goddamn seven-year-old kid. Egbert gets a fair share too, but Harley has some kind of magic that forces me out of my comfort zone.

The bell rings, signaling lunch just as I close the door to the empty room. As my eyes roam the crowd of kids, I catch on Egbert, walking over to him for a second.

"Go home the minute your school day's over," I tell him. "If you can ditch extracurricular shit afterward and get your ass home sooner, all the better."

"Why?" The kid sounds genuinely confused, and I really don't feel like telling him the answer.

"Just trust me." I fold my arms over my chest. "Get home after school."

"Uh… okay." He furrows his eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

I nod at him. "Yeah, you're fine. I'd just rather our amateur policemen not get their damn hands on you in this state."

With a slight wince, he shrugs. "Yeah. Dad and Casey should be coming home today, probably this afternoon…" He sighs. "I'll ditch Art so I can be home when they get there."

I nod. "Good." Walking away from him, I seek out Harley.

She turns around, green dress flouncing about her legs. "Dave!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around me and pressing her lips to my cheek. It startles me, like it does every time, though I refuse to show it. "What's up?"

"A lot," I reply, putting my arms around her neck. "I have a goddamn bone to pick with the school law enforcement, but it'll just be an after-school fight. I've fought them before, it won't be that bad."

Her mouth twists into a slightly pouty frown. "What happened?"

"Shit with Egbert." I shrug. "I'm more than fed up with their bullying; he follows the rules, there's no reason for it."

She definitely doesn't look happy. "You're always fighting though. Can't you just… leave it alone?"

"Harley, come on." I purse my lips slightly. "Have you seen Egbert today? It looks like he had a run-in with a really goddamn angry sweatshirt, and the sweatshirt made him its bitch. It's not okay, and I'm not standing for it."

Her face clouds slightly, and she sighs. "Yeah, I know. I just… don't like you fighting."

"It's what I do best." Fighting inbred habit, I lean down and kiss her temple gently. It's taken a lot of work to learn to be this physical with her; growing up, Bro was always the only one I felt comfortable around. He taught me never to let other people see my vulnerabilities and keep them at arm's length. Letting anyone, even the girl I love, into that is easier said than done. "I'll be okay. I'm a goddamn Strider, if I can't cover my ass in a street fight with three kids, I deserve what I get." Technically this is a fight I don't have more than a small chance of actually winning, but I also know I'm not in much true danger.

Eights and her goddamn whip.

Jade smiles softly up at me, standing on tiptoes to nuzzle her nose against mine. "Okay. Just be careful."

"I'm always careful, babe."

* * *

**_ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snoop dogg is one of my otpppppppppppppppppppps_**

**_all the otps motherfucker_**


	16. Chapter 16

_**a/n: this took forever i'm so sorry my computer crashed D:**_

* * *

=== Be John Egbert

I sigh, pushing the front door open and meandering over to the couch. Lying down, I allow myself a second to panic.

Dad and Casey are coming home today. Dad I can talk to, explain things to, and be okay. He'll be worried- he's my dad- but we can work through it. He knows me well, and we can work on this, getting at the root of the problem and figuring things out.

I hear the door open, and sit up on the couch in time to hear a little giggle. Big green eyes peek around the corner, twinkling brightly under blonde bangs. "John!" shrieks a child's voice, and a bundle of pastel clothes flings itself into my arms.

Laughing, I hug her back, ignoring the stabs of pain shooting up my arms. "Hi, Casey," I reply into her mop of bright blonde hair. "I missed you."

"Missed you," she giggles. Pulling back from me, she holds up her stuffed rabbit, the one I bought her on her gotcha day. "Missed you too!"

"Oh, did Liv miss me?" I kiss the top of the little bunny's head.

She laughs, hugging the rabbit. Her eyes sparkle brightly, but they dim and her features crease into a frown when she notices my arms. Short fingers on little hands tap my bandages. "What happened?"

"It's not really a big deal," I reply, pulling my arms behind her in an attempt to get them out of sight and out of mind.

True to form, however, she just twists around, abandoning Liv in her attempts to figure out my injuries. "John, you hurt?"

"Yeah," I confess. "It's okay."

"Why?" she prods. Her hand yanks at my shirt, getting me to meet her eyes. "John, why you hurt?"

This little girl and her curiosity. It's going to be the death of me, I swear.

I still don't really know how to answer this, but she is four. So I go with the shitty cover story. "I fell out of a tree." Letting a goofy grin spread across my face, I continue, "I wasn't paying very good attention, and I got hurt."

She pouts at me, waving a little finger in my face. "John, you hav' be careful!"

"I know, Casey." I hug her close, suddenly struck by how much I love my little sister. How stupid I was to ever think that leaving this behind could be a good idea.

Dad speaks up from behind her, standing in the front hallway. "Casey, could you go play in your room for a while?"

She hops off my lap and scurries out of the room, leaving behind just an echo of a laugh.

I look up to my Dad, watching him take off the ever-present fedora and hang it on the wall hook. "Again?" His eyes are pained, and, in a way, it hurts worse than any blade.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

"I'm trying to help, John. But… I can't." He gestures helplessly to me. "There's nothing I can do. It hurts to see you like this, but I feel like I can't do anything."

"I know," I choke out, "and I'm sorry. It just… God, it hurts! And sometimes it just hurts too much and I can't handle it!"

He sits down on the couch next to me, dark blue eyes sad. "And I try to help. But sometimes I just don't know that you need help."

"Because I don't like to need help." A sob chokes in the back of my throat. "I hate feeling like this, and I don't want to, but sometimes it just… happens!"

There's a short pause. Then Dad just holds his arms open, and I move over to him and nestle into him like the little kid I am inside. I'm not crying, but I'm hurting, and his strong arms around me, arms that haven't changed my whole life, are calming. Breathing in the smell of his warm cologne, clutching him tightly like I'm afraid to lose him, knowing he cares so much about me, it all makes me relax until I feel utterly safe and protected.

Still, he doesn't move away. He just sits there and lets me wordlessly express my pain, drawing it away from me as quickly as I push it toward him. There's something about his just being here that makes everything better. The way his smell soaks into my skin, the way his chin rests on the top of my head, the way he still cradles me like a four-year-old even though I'm seventeen.

After a few minutes, he speaks softly. "You know I love you, right John?" There's a note, an odd emotion behind it, that's so… strange. It takes me a couple of seconds to place it.

It's guilt.

It's uncertainty.

It's pain I didn't realize my dad felt about this. Pain that radiates around my skull, because it's my fault.

"Of course," I mutter into his dress shirt. "Dad, you've always loved me. I know that completely."

He nods. "Good."


	17. Chapter 17

=== Dave: Defend

"Hey, douchebags."

Two of the three whip their heads sharply toward me, looking over my slim figure with wolves' gazes. The leader, a human girl known only as Eights, takes her time, lazily looking up at me. She crosses black-gloved arms over a vested chest. "Dave Strider. Fancy seeing you here."

"You know, if you wanted a beating, you could've just asked instead of hurting my best friend."

The troll of the group, a tall lanky yellowblood, smirks. "We haven't touched the kid." I'm already planning out the fight; this kid has to go down first, or those psionics will be the death of me.

"Verbally, you've done a shitton." I raise my eyebrows ever so slightly. "Those bandages are indirectly because of you."

"Did he do it to himself, then?" The last boy, fairly short but athletic as fuck, stares at me menacingly. "We were all waiting for it."

I don't reply; in fact, I can barely interpret what he's saying. My eyes are locked with Eights', sizing her up as much as she's sizing me up. We've fought before, more than a few times, and this is almost a ritual by now. She likes to change her fighting style every time to try to slip past my defenses, and I try to anticipate that and match her with my own style.

Finally, she speaks. "Fine, then." Her eyes are glinting with cruel intrigue. "Try us."

The best thing about going to this shitty school is that they so rarely give a fuck about my sword. So long as I don't try to kill anyone in class, they let me carry it. I pull it from the sheath and lean into a terribly ironic pose, crouching slightly over to the left, right arm extended so my sword's barely touching the ground. I flash a fake smile at her, though she wouldn't be able to tell past the glasses. "Thought you'd never ask."

Quickly, before there's time for them to act, I spring into motion, immediately going for the yellowblood in an attempt to get him before the damn psionics get at me. My sword arm comes up, slicing a narrow honey strip down his chest. He gasps, shoving hands at me in an attempt to unleash the telepathic powers; too startled, his telekinesis just pops around him, useless red-blue sparks crackling on my skin.

Smirking, I bring the hilt up and around, steel smashing into the underside of his jaw with an audible smack. Dark eyes roll up in his head and he collapses, out cold.

Okay, the odds just got a hell of a lot better.

I hiss slightly as the human boy darts around me, light knives fluttering across my shoulders. Swinging around, I get a fleeting knee to his stomach, but he rolls away from me with a soft grunt. As he stands up, he rushes right into another attack, and I easily sink into defense mode, slipping around sharp steel flirting with exposed skin, letting him tire himself out.

Bro taught me to fight. I can work with just about anything.

After only about a minute of nimbly stepping around his sloppy attacks, goading him on to sloppier, he leaves himself wide open. He's basically giving me an invitation to step in and end this. I move in and bring a cupped hand under his chin, snapping his head back so I can throw a hand into his neck and knock him out too.

Two down, one to go.

It's that one that'll be damn problematic.

There's a mildly painful flick at my shoulder, a burning tendril slicing into my collarbone and spinning me around. I come face-to-face with Eights, who's smirking at me, black whip coiled at her feet like a pet mamba. Her tight short-sleeved black vest, the bright green accents strangely distracting, fits just over black jeans. There's a black bandana tying back ebony hair, lime accents around the edge.

And I swear to God, her eyes are black.

We both pause for a second. "Not the fastest ever," she remarks, "but you got them out of the way."

I shrug. "They're the easy part."

"Now for the real fighting."

I move in, trying desperately to get the first shot, but she barely even moves, snapping her whip into my neck to get me to jerk off-course. Her hand comes up with mind-numbing speed, shoving my blade aside. Her poker face is just as good as mine, and our fights are intense as fuck for it.

A few minutes of this give-and-take passes, where we both attack and both step into defense, almost a dance in the complexity and beauty, and we're matched so perfectly that it's a true contest as to the winner. She's one of the very few people that has beaten me.

Ever.

After some minutes of our game, she finally gets me, her sharp whip curling around my wrist and yanking the sword harshly from its grip. Losing no time in getting to me, she twists a gloved hand in the front of my shirt and shoves me up against the outside wall of the school.

She isn't even panting. Her hair's still firmly tied up. Other than a deep red gash on her leg, her clothes are intact.

This girl's a goddamn mannequin, I swear to everything that is good and holy. It's like she's frozen looking like this forever.

Maybe that's where she got her nickname.

Snowman.

A sharp black tendril cups my glasses and yanks them off. "Your eyes, Dave Strider. I like them." The smirk doesn't move. She's taunting me, but I refuse to let her get to me that easily.

"Can't say I return the sentiment, yours are creepy as shit." I literally feel worse than naked without the shades. My eyes are something I'm actually ashamed of; they're red. It's weird. Not to mention I can't really understand people unless I'm reading their lips, and people notice that.

"I know." She leans in, closer, closer, until her lips are almost on mine. And yet I know she has no intentions of kissing me. If Snowman wants to kiss you, you'll get fucking kissed. This has more the feeling of an intimate secret, one so quiet it literally has to be breathed into another. "I'll leave your John Egbert alone, but I want something from it."

"Name it, sweetheart." Our eyes are locked, my creepy mutant gaze into hers. I've conversed with her so often, I know exactly what she's saying, even just seeing her lips in my peripheral vision.

"You give me and my crew free reign for a week." Her smile widens ever so slightly. "But for your John Egbert."

"Give me Egbert and Harley and you have a deal." Her "crew." The law enforcement. There are actually twelve, including her; the two who were fighting are simply the ones we see. There are apparently four guys against her, doing the same thing but with different methods. And they're scary; they've been rumored to run underground criminal groups as well as enforce our laws.

Hell, they've even got names.

Granted, they're names that make less than no damn sense, but they're names.

Her Felt versus their Midnight Crew.

An example of how well-organized these student law books are.

She seems to think my counter offer lacking. "Two weeks, for both your John Egbert and your Jade Harley."

"Stop calling them 'mine,' babe. Last I checked, human slavery was illegal." I sigh, realizing how much power I'm giving them, and nod. "Two weeks, and you do absolutely nothing to either Egbert or Harley."

With a slight nod, she steps back. "I accept." Her smirk grows slightly wider for a second. "Have a good day, Dave Strider."

"You too, darling."

I pick the shades up and place them back on my face, covering my eyes and suddenly feeling a million times more confident. Then I grab my sword and head for home.


	18. Chapter 18

=== Dave: Go Home

I push the door open, walking in cautiously. "Bro!" I call. "I'm home!"

"I know." I jump slightly as Bro's voice comes from behind me, whipping around to face him. Arms crossed, unintelligible gaze fixed on me from behind the glasses, he makes a rather intimidating picture, but I won't let that show. "You're late."

"I got in a fight." Trying to offset his complete calm, I cross my arms too as he pushes the door closed behind me.

"Did you win?"

"Well enough." Hell if I'm going to admit that Snowman technically beat me. I negotiated myself to the end result I wanted.

He doesn't seem entirely satisfied, but he nods. "Go clean yourself up, Rose is coming for dinner tonight and I'd prefer you not look like a complete fucking mess."

"Fucking wonderful." I brush past him, walking quickly up the stairs. "Roxy sloshed still?"

"Unfortunately," he yells up to me. As long as he's loud, he enunciates well enough that I can generally get the basic gist of what he's saying, even with how shit my hearing is. "She's sleeping... off, so... halfway sober... dinner."

Ugh, I wish I could hear more than just these few words.

I take an educated guess and keep talking back to him. "Yeah, right, she'll just drink her way through the whole damn meal," I scoff from the bathroom, yanking my shirt over my head and wincing at the deep gash across my shoulder. "Roxy doesn't do 'sober' very well."

"I got her to... a while," he calls back. "She's goddamn nice... hide all the liquor."

I roll my eyes, pulling out the antiseptic. "She's goddamn nice all the time, just more clever when she's sober. Smart fucking woman, more so when alcohol isn't running through her system like it owns the place."

"She's smart... I'm not debating that." There's a quick pause, then he continues, "But she'll kill herself... hammered... don't mind her, I'd rather... alive."

"Don't mind her? Bro, you're in goddamn love with her." I hold back a gasp as I smear antiseptic on my cut, biting my lip sharply. It hurts, dammit, more than I've been admitting for the past hour or so.

Bro unexpectedly appears in the mirror behind me, lazily leaning against the door. "Nah, I'm really not."

It makes me jump, pressing a finger directly into the gash on my skin. "Jesus fuck, Bro!" I swear, glaring at him in the mirror. "Don't sneak up on me like that, God."

"Don't let me, then." He doesn't move much, just nods to me to keep going. At least now I can see his lips in the mirror and understand his whole sentence.

I sigh and keep working on it, now trying to fix the new bleeding. "You're so fucking far in love, it's probably unhealthy," I continue. "Why are you still denying it?"

"Striders don't-"

"Do not pull that bullshit on me, Bro," I hiss at him. "Striders love just as much as any other person, and you know it."

He shrugs. "What makes you think that this is any different than my longer flings?"

"You and Roxy have been together for two and a half years, okay?" I roll my eyes, grabbing bandages from the cabinet. "What's the longest anyone else lasted, two months?"

Again, a shrug. "She's lasted longer. So?"

"You haven't even fucked anyone else since less than a goddamn week into this relationship. That's pretty damn telling, for someone who usually had a different lay every night."

He doesn't seem to have an answer for this, so I push on. "Lalonde and I declared ourselves siblings when I realized Roxy was your exclusive, more than two years ago. You let her live in our goddamn house more than half the time. You give a shit that she stays safe. Hell, you go out of your way to keep her safe." By now, I've forgotten about the bandages, and I'm just glaring at him. "Tell me that isn't love, and I'll tell you that you're spewing shit."

He doesn't say anything. For a full ten seconds, he just stands there, completely unreadable behind his Strider poker face. But the silence is more telling than anything he possibly could've said. And when he absconds, still silent, it's as if he gave me a full paragraph.

I turn back to the mirror and continue bandaging.

After all, my stepsister and stepmom are going to be at dinner.


End file.
